Displaying my typical inability to moderate myself I’ve eaten at least some of every single thing I bought to today. The asparagus was absolutely beautiful and the only child in me was wishing Damon didn’t like it so I could have his. I had to settle for saying that I wish I had 50 more stalks as an appetizer for 100 stalks after that.
Now I’m wrapped in a blanket on the couch. The windows are open, even though it’s dark and brisk. I like the little chill that blows through every once in a while. I’m reading and idly playing my way through my Netflix and TiVo queues. The first season of Northern Exposure is on right now. Chris in the morning still gives my heart a little flutter, even though he’s sort of greasy and shacked up with Bo Derek now.
I’m reading two books. The first is The Poisonwood Bible. I’ve read it before, but I’m doing it once more for good measure. I like it, though I find it a bit much in its recreations of the girls’ malapropisms. The other book is Outlander which is unabashed pulp historical romance. I don’t indulge too often in the genre. Not because I’m above it but because it’s usually done so poory (in my experience) that I can’t hang in. But when I find a fun one, I’m in love. I actually tuned into this one via an abridged version on tape. The main characters are a Scottish man and an English woman and it was worth the download just to listen to the reader shuttle back and forth between the two accents.