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Today has started off as a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Whyyyyy do children insist on waking up at the crack of dawn on days when they don't have to, when they're perfectly capable of sleeping in way past normal wake-up time and demostrate their ability to do so almost every single school day?
To brighten up my morning, I have reread Aragorn and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, by Sarah. So now I feel better, because at least I don't have aethelas in my mouth or in my hair :)
***
I have also read a bit more of Drums of Autumn, Diana Gabaldon's fourth book in the Outlander series. Historical romances are not normally my thing, but these books are different. Yes, there's a liittle too much of the searing touches and the gasping ecstasy and the bottomless pools of cat-like eyes, but there's also good plots, good historical research, and a lot of humour. To wit:
Sleeping under the moon and stars in the arms of a naked lover, the two of you cradled by furs and soft leaves, lulled by the gentle murmur of the chestnut trees and the far-off rumble of a waterfall, is terribly romantic. Sleeping under a crude lean-to, squashed into a soggy mass between a large, wet husband and an equally large, equally wet nephew, listening to rain thrump branches overhead while fending off the advances of an immense and thoroughly saturated dog, is slightly less so.
***
I've also made myself a checklist that will hopefully help keep me on track on days like today: ( checklist )
To brighten up my morning, I have reread Aragorn and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, by Sarah. So now I feel better, because at least I don't have aethelas in my mouth or in my hair :)
I have also read a bit more of Drums of Autumn, Diana Gabaldon's fourth book in the Outlander series. Historical romances are not normally my thing, but these books are different. Yes, there's a liittle too much of the searing touches and the gasping ecstasy and the bottomless pools of cat-like eyes, but there's also good plots, good historical research, and a lot of humour. To wit:
Sleeping under the moon and stars in the arms of a naked lover, the two of you cradled by furs and soft leaves, lulled by the gentle murmur of the chestnut trees and the far-off rumble of a waterfall, is terribly romantic. Sleeping under a crude lean-to, squashed into a soggy mass between a large, wet husband and an equally large, equally wet nephew, listening to rain thrump branches overhead while fending off the advances of an immense and thoroughly saturated dog, is slightly less so.
I've also made myself a checklist that will hopefully help keep me on track on days like today: ( checklist )
