I was a middle son, between two wayward ones
I've been lost in Les Miserables for two days now.
I don't even want to draw, or do homework. I just want to read Les Mis until sparkles are literally flooding out my ears.
I love this book, but I'm afraid that I'm making everyone else hate it by the amount of times I've stumbled through the text aloud with them.
"You need not tell me who you are. This is not my house; it is the house of Christ. it does not ask any comer whether he has a name, but whether he has an affliction. You are suffering; you are hungry and thirsty; be welcome. And do not thank me; do not tell me that I take you into my house. This is the home of no man, except him who needs an asylum. I tell you, who are a traveler, that you are more at home here than I; whatever is here is yours. What need have I to know your name? Besides, before you told me, I knew it."
...I love that.
Ha, when I was checking out some books in the school library, the younger librarian seemed to really enjoy my choice of books. I asked her about the renewal policy, explaining that one of my friends wanted to start an independent reading circle for Mansfield Park. You know the flood of sparkles I mentioned earlier? There were many behind the checkout desk after I mentioned this.
Jenny told me that one of the characters reminds her of--well, what I've told her about the young man I have an affinity for.
Oh dear. All of the covers I've seen on Amazon show the main character as a brunette doing something crafty.
This is not going to be good. Ah, well. What do I know?
Oh! Oh! Oh!
I learned to knit over the break. I also bought a book on crocheting lace edgings and that stuff is GORGEOUS.
Also, last week, I went out to dinner with Christy. I love her. We have a strange way of conversation but I love it, and I love getting to know her. We painted pottery together, also! My mug had a "bald spot," seeing as we started painting our coffee mugs an hour before the pottery place closed, and we laughed at ourselves as we left.
Hmmm.
Tornado warnings on the news. Dad just said "If the power goes out, head for the laundry room."
That isn't settling.
I don't even want to draw, or do homework. I just want to read Les Mis until sparkles are literally flooding out my ears.
I love this book, but I'm afraid that I'm making everyone else hate it by the amount of times I've stumbled through the text aloud with them.
"You need not tell me who you are. This is not my house; it is the house of Christ. it does not ask any comer whether he has a name, but whether he has an affliction. You are suffering; you are hungry and thirsty; be welcome. And do not thank me; do not tell me that I take you into my house. This is the home of no man, except him who needs an asylum. I tell you, who are a traveler, that you are more at home here than I; whatever is here is yours. What need have I to know your name? Besides, before you told me, I knew it."
...I love that.
Ha, when I was checking out some books in the school library, the younger librarian seemed to really enjoy my choice of books. I asked her about the renewal policy, explaining that one of my friends wanted to start an independent reading circle for Mansfield Park. You know the flood of sparkles I mentioned earlier? There were many behind the checkout desk after I mentioned this.
Jenny told me that one of the characters reminds her of--well, what I've told her about the young man I have an affinity for.
Oh dear. All of the covers I've seen on Amazon show the main character as a brunette doing something crafty.
This is not going to be good. Ah, well. What do I know?
Oh! Oh! Oh!
I learned to knit over the break. I also bought a book on crocheting lace edgings and that stuff is GORGEOUS.
Also, last week, I went out to dinner with Christy. I love her. We have a strange way of conversation but I love it, and I love getting to know her. We painted pottery together, also! My mug had a "bald spot," seeing as we started painting our coffee mugs an hour before the pottery place closed, and we laughed at ourselves as we left.
Hmmm.
Tornado warnings on the news. Dad just said "If the power goes out, head for the laundry room."
That isn't settling.