Whee! At last, the sky is falling!
I really want to open the windows so I can hear the rain, but the air in here is cooler than the air outside thanks to a morning of sealed egresses and our brave little air conditioner.
Must… not… open windows… to hear… rain…
Well. No need to open the windows. Now I can hear it hitting the ground through the glass. I wonder how long this will last?
I have finally added a link to the left for my Wish List.
I’m sure I’ll think of more.
So I checked the weather in Pennsylvania, just to know how to pack for this week’s camping trip:
27 degrees Celsius (or 38 with humidity — that’s 100 F!) and thunderstorms now through Thursday.
Hmm. Sounds like Montreal.
Guess I’ll be packing light clothes and raingear. Oh joy, oh rapture.
I’m currently reading The Club Dumas and enjoying every moment. I do wish I had a copy of The Three Musketeers on hand, though, for easy access. The illustrations referred to in the other pertinent title in the story (the mythical “Book of the Nine Doors”) are actually included in the text, and believe me, there’s lots of reference and flipping of pages going on. I highly recommend it if you have any interest in the occult, the antiquarian book trade, or French history. And serial stories, of course.
I’ve been having trouble catching my breath all day. I wonder if it’s the humidity.
And about the Vatican issuing an official document opposing the legalisation of same-sex marriages: anyone else remember the phrase “seperation of church and state?”
Hurrah, it’s finally raining! Which means, of course, that the mild sinus headache I’ve had all day has blossomed into what threatens to become a migraine.
So, the quick entry: Had a terrific evening of cider and relaxation with girlfriends at the local pub on Friday night; I ended up going home early because of a headache brought on by who knows what. Saturday I led an experimental meditation workshop on the weekend which by all acounts was a success. So successful, in fact, that instead of lunching together afterwards we all went our separate ways, drowsy and warm fuzzy-like. Sunday was wine and cheese with friends, and the joys of using the remote for my camera for the first time in four years (I kid you not).
I have an important idea brewing in my head concerning my future. It’s not quite fully formed yet; still vague. It seems important, though. I’ll let it incubate for a while longer.
One of the reasons to love summer:
A salad of fresh tomatoes and garden cucumbers, tossed with a bit of the Italian olive oil my parents brought back from Italy, and a sprinkling of fresh-grated black pepper.
A couple of years ago, Skippy told me to be like the cork: sure, you get drowned by breaker waves, but you can just pop right back up again.
Fine. But you know, being a bloody cork means drown, gasp, drown, gasp…
Kind of like how I defined reincarnation during a recent study session before our priesthood exam: Lather, rinse, repeat.
Birthday summary: tea in bed. Phone call from my parents. Open gifts from parents. Watch cartoons. Go window shopping – window shopping because not one of our medieval stores had anything spectacular. I did get a Japanese bamboo roll pillow, though, and I am now an official Lush fan. That was my present from my husband: carte blanche in the Lush store. Mmm. Bath bombs, bubble bars, massage bars, soap, powder, face scrubs… my bathroom now smells like Lush, which is pretty darned all right in my book. Then sushi for dinner, where the staff gave me a piece of cheesecake for dessert. Anyone who knows me knows that cheesecake isn’t my thing. They’re always so kind, though, so I looked at my husband and said, “I’m going to eat some of this.” It turned out not to be such a sacrifice: it was the lightest, non-cheesey cheesecake I’ve ever tasted, more creamy than anything else. Then we went home and had a bottle of my dad’s amazing red pinot noir.
This morning, I woke up way too early, and wrote a short story before nine AM. I know; I think I must be sick, too. (Yes, Ceri, it’s on its way…)