I got a big book of Hugo winning sci fi stories from some years back. I just finished a Jack Vance. Soon I'll find another writer to read. I like the way that every era has great stories, great songs, great ideas, great pictures, and great non-sequiturs, almost all of which are forgotten or re-imagined. It makes libraries and Good Will and the internet massive treasure troves of inexpensive culture.
One of my cacti may not have made it, after a session without enough light and water. Now I let some rain over-water my crown of thorns. I must work on resuming my expert succulent plant care, which some might call benign and effective semi-neglect.
I'm pressed for time, but not for words. Words I have.