I'm supposed to be gardening.
It has taken forever to get the potatoes planted.
They sit, very contentedly, in large pots... but they should be in the ground.
Where James Joyce fits into the scheme of things is anybody's guess.
Wandering the Internet, I find that Nigeria has many interesting puzzles to solve on the
subject of minority languages. In that there are many links with Ireland and its floundering,
moribund native language. Joycean scholars spend forever tracing links to ancient words
in his esoteric texts. I'll leave them at it, as cryptologists are forever playing games
with their reader's heads.
And I begin to wonder if James Joyce left Ireland just to get away from the rain...
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