A Saturday morning with nothing on the agenda
Which isn't entirely true. There's plenty on the agenda. But it indirectly involves me, even more so because I'm sick. I woke up at 830 this morning, clearly because my body'd had enough of sleeping. I've been sleeping nearly every evening or afternoon this entire passed week. My back was beginning to ache from laying too much.
We had a few nice days of sunshine. But the true sign of spring has finally come. The songbirds are back. Robin informed me, rather redundantly, that things were "wetwetwet." It's nice to see the weatherman confirmed.
My cat almost rolled off her couch. She clearly did not expect to be so close to the edge.
I have a lot of things to get done. Totally aside from any writing I need to do. I've missed group twice, once because of ICFA, which I need to update on as well, and this last time because I was sick. However, it has giving me opportunity to catch up on my reading. In the last couple weeks I've finished William Goldman's The Princess Bride, Roman Philbrick's The Last Book in the Universe, M.T. Anderson's The Game of Sunken Places and Nancy Farmer's The House of the Scorpion. I liked the book far better than I enjoyed the movie, though I did enjoy the movie version of The Princess Bride a lot. I still don't like Buttercup though, for the same reason I detest Juliet. The Last Book is outstanding, though it did evoke moments of Donkey Kong meets Lord of the Rings. I envy M.T. Anderson and his plot skills. I've read Feed and now I want to go read Octavian Nothing. As for Nancy Farmer? I thoroughly loved Scorpion. She foreshadows like nobody's business and renders moments of horror fabulously.
Alright. I have eaten. I have rambled. I need to move a little now. I wonder what the temperature is, and whether I can open the windows without seeing my breath or kicking the heater into high-gear.
And so, we're off.
We had a few nice days of sunshine. But the true sign of spring has finally come. The songbirds are back. Robin informed me, rather redundantly, that things were "wetwetwet." It's nice to see the weatherman confirmed.
My cat almost rolled off her couch. She clearly did not expect to be so close to the edge.
I have a lot of things to get done. Totally aside from any writing I need to do. I've missed group twice, once because of ICFA, which I need to update on as well, and this last time because I was sick. However, it has giving me opportunity to catch up on my reading. In the last couple weeks I've finished William Goldman's The Princess Bride, Roman Philbrick's The Last Book in the Universe, M.T. Anderson's The Game of Sunken Places and Nancy Farmer's The House of the Scorpion. I liked the book far better than I enjoyed the movie, though I did enjoy the movie version of The Princess Bride a lot. I still don't like Buttercup though, for the same reason I detest Juliet. The Last Book is outstanding, though it did evoke moments of Donkey Kong meets Lord of the Rings. I envy M.T. Anderson and his plot skills. I've read Feed and now I want to go read Octavian Nothing. As for Nancy Farmer? I thoroughly loved Scorpion. She foreshadows like nobody's business and renders moments of horror fabulously.
Alright. I have eaten. I have rambled. I need to move a little now. I wonder what the temperature is, and whether I can open the windows without seeing my breath or kicking the heater into high-gear.
And so, we're off.