Outside my window
Today is a day that verges along the edge
of a boundary, a line, that separates Fall and Winter. Perhaps if I lived
somewhere else I would definitely describe it as Fall weather; cloudy skies,
green grass tipped with frost, muddy roads, but for us, it has a hinting of
Winter. Not that Winter is even supposed to begin until the end of the month
(doesn’t that seem rather silly to you? December seems such a wintery month to
me, and yet Winter doesn’t even begin till the last few days.) When I look out
my window what I really want to describe most is mud. Dark, chocolaty brown mud.
I like mud. That is, I like mud when I slip on my extra tall boots (courtesy of
last Christmas and my increasing need for boots) and trump about in a road of
mud. Mud that squishes, squelches, and sticks to the bottom of the old boots.
The Book Thief (so far I’m really
enjoying it. I’m about ten chapters in I think, and it’s really well written
and absorbing. I dislike how the book is broken up with these bolded sections
between paragraphs, it’s rather jolting, but so far that’s my only complaint.
Then again I’m still near the beginning)
Skipping Christmas (This is a reread. I
recommend. It always makes me laugh.)
A Wodehouse story from my Just enough
Jeeves story collection.
I’m finding my list of books increasing by dozen
as I’ve been going through Sarah’s book blogs, and really, I want to read
anything she suggests. I have a great big long list of books to find now.
From the Kitchen
Cold coffee sitting on the tabletop.
A few plans for the rest of the week
I’ve been filling out a new address book,
slowly but surely. Who knew it could take such a long time? I’m about half way
through. I also need to finish filling out Christmas cards, but extra envelopes
are necessary. Also, I would like to create some Christmas ornaments and
things. That’s always such fun.
I’m creating
Well, I believe I covered what I’m
creating in the prompt above, but I do also need to finish up my doll. I want
to have it all ready to give to Ella on Christmas.
I’m listening to
Squealing children running up and down
the stairs, thump, thump, thump.
