The problem with a great book is that its true magic is in the capture. Once you are captured the magic is still there, but it loses its edge, and the magic is never quite the same again.
I've been glutting myself on quite a bit of fiction lately. At the behest of my husband I finally settled in to read 11/22/63 by Steven King (in case you missed it; he's my favorite). I'm a little mad at him now both because the end was spectacularly perfect and heart breaking ( if I had the time to spare it may have spent time in the freezer ) and because now I am book bereft. There won't be time for involved reading in Arizona so I can't even comfort myself with something else I hope is as good. I just kind of wander around...lost.
I got my hair cut the other day.
It is bad.
It is very, very bad.
I hate it.
All my cute summer-do wishes have gone up in smoke. Ah well. It will grow. Or I will shave it.
Tomorrow I will perform my last chore before dropping the kids off with my mom...depollenizing the car. The hunky says why bother, but I think being able to see out the windows on the interstate is important.
Part of prepping for a six hour round trip drive included acquainting myself with the process of checking out audio books and kindle books from my library website to my toys. It took way longer than I anticipated. And it's taking hours to upload the books to my ipod, which of course means there isn't any music to play while I wrap up the pre-mission trip house work.
Life is rough I tell you.
I should go see if I can fit all my things into my carry on bag before I fly across the country in under five hours. Oh the humanity. :)