Lazy days

I have had the song "Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer" in my head for quite a few weeks now, so I decided to post. Maybe that will help.
Things around here have been quite slow, and I haven't been doing much. I have managed to find things to blog about, but most of my days are spent reading. One of my current books is Ensaio Sobre a Cegueira (Blindness) by José Saramago. I'm reading it in Portuguese and it's been extremely interesting; it's unlike anything I've ever read before. The progression of events and the way that he writes them leave a lot to the imagination; not in the events themselves, but in the details surrounding them. He leaves the reader to explore the emotions and gut reactions of the characters, from the doctor and his wife (he doesn't use proper nouns) to the soldiers to the boy with the squint who doesn't know where his mother is. The primary question I continue to ask is "What would I do if I were there? How would I handle it? Would I be able to handle it?"
Saramago doesn't use quotation marks (which is common in Portuguese, but he also doesn't start a new paragraph when someone new is talking -- he only uses a capital letter to begin the next "sentence"), so the book reads a lot more like stream of consciousness than an orderly set of thoughts or an orderly conversation. It requires that one pay attention. When I finish it, I plan on reviewing it over on a blog I have been invited to co-author, Worm's Book Report.
Maybe after this I'll be able to tackle (and get through) Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Here's to hoping.