(no subject)
I'm just about finished re-reading Dorothy L. Sayers' Busman's Honeymoon. I've been wanting to read it for a while, but it's been buried under the pile of about sixty books on my bedroom floor, which I put away yesterday. Now if I can just get out the ones under the bed, I might be able to find and read Gaudy Night, as well.
One hour later . . .
I've cleaned under the bed, but Gaudy Night has not turned up. I did, however, find about twenty other books (including Thrones, Dominations, G.K. Chesterton's The Complete Father Brown, and Agatha Christie Death in the Air,) two hairbrushes (which is good luck, since my only other brush broke three days ago), three boxes of kleenex (one empty), and a spoon. I have now vowed to sweep under the bed at least twice a week . . . .
One hour later . . .
I've cleaned under the bed, but Gaudy Night has not turned up. I did, however, find about twenty other books (including Thrones, Dominations, G.K. Chesterton's The Complete Father Brown, and Agatha Christie Death in the Air,) two hairbrushes (which is good luck, since my only other brush broke three days ago), three boxes of kleenex (one empty), and a spoon. I have now vowed to sweep under the bed at least twice a week . . . .