Yesterday was quiet, as vacation days should be. Our Rhode Island friends are here and we are now 5.

Because I have given up on Killer Angels much to the surprise of many, I needed a substitute. Not immediately, because I brought a Penguin mystery with me, but soon. So we went to the book store at the Kennebunkport library and i bought a copy of Vladimir Nabokov’s Speak, Memory, which is more my speed.

The mystery? It’s called The Bandaged Nude and I am sure you haven’t read it. I am halfway through. The “bandaged nude” is a painting of a beautiful woman, unclothed, but with a bandage on one toe. Don’t ask, because I don’t know. The painter was murdered and placed in a case of spaghetti which had been spoiled by a seawater leak. Now do you see why I am reading it?

It’s set in San Francisco in the late 1940s.  The author is Paul Ryan, but it’s written under the name of Robert Finnegan. Ryan was a longshoreman and a Communist (as a Communist he wrote under Mike Quin), but you wouldn’t know it from the book. His writing was limited because he died of cancer quite young. I have no idea who the murderer will turn out to be.

Enough of that.

What else? I saw this Ferrari parked a block away from us. It wasn’t for sale, but I thought about making an offer. It seems that $350,000 might be reasonable as a start to negotiate from. But then I realized how limited the trunk space was, so I decided against it.

Meanwhile,  I have not paid much attention to the news. Is Biden still president? I don’t know if it makes much difference to the folks on Goose Rocks Beach. Except for this guy.

Today and tomorrow should be just lazy days. I hope. Weather today started off better than the last two because the humidity is down.  The July 4 crowd seems to have gone as well. It’s far from deserted, but you can find a parking space. For your Ferrari.