I couldn’t get to sleep last night. It was just too hot. So, I read 20 or so pages of Seamus Heaney’s wonderful translation of Antigone, which he called The Burial at Thebes. Still not tired. So, I picked up Lizst’s life of Chopin. Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. After 4 pages, I was out for the night.