First-of-Month Meme

I ran this meme a few years ago, and thought I'd revisit it. The following are the first sentences of the first blog post I made during each month of 2010.

January: I'm continuing to work my way through Nelson Algren's story-and-essay collection The Last Carousel.

February: This morning I started reading Kent Haruf's Eventide which my wonderful wife gave me for Christmas.

March: Longtime readers of this space may recall that every March I read nothing but Irish fiction.

April: As I mentioned earlier, before my latest reading of Gulliver's Travels I was under the presumption that at least some of the book's satire must have specifically pertained to the age-old conflict between England and Ireland.

May: "Another attendant opened the door for him at the top of the stairs, and a huge roar of smoke-hazed, lime-lit laughter, coming out of the door like blast from a bomb, hit him in the face..."

June: We know how you feel, Mr. Hayward, because we'd like our Gulf back.

July: Sure, I realize it's spread over three days, but dear gawd what a lineup.

August: Okay, so I have thousands of ways to back up that statement, more than I could ever fully elaborate upon here.

September: Over the weekend, Julie was kind enough to buy me the charming little camera shown above - a Kodak Brownie Hawkeye from the 1960s.

October: Ah, to be independently wealthy.

November: Do your civic duty and vote today, or else refrain from complaining about our political system for the next two years.

December: Hard to imagine Poe as a college student.

So let's see: literary, literary, literary, literary, literary, shot at hapless BP CEO, musical, spousal appreciation, latest camera acquisition, Scottish pub for sale, civic call to arms, literary. Almost looks like I made a concerted effort to have more diverse, or at least non-literary, interests starting in mid-year. Also interesting to note that the February, August and September posts all involved spousal appreciation - I guess Julie was particularly good to me this year. (She's very good to me every year, of course.)