In which the cradle will fall
So, it is a lovely rainy day, and let's all talk about the weather for a long, long time, because nothing is more enjoyable than discussing temperature and road conditions via the internet.
I spent several days lolling about on the boat, out of my mind with fever and congestion. Out of deference to my illness, the cable TV, my Internet connection and my DVD player took sick as well, which I appreciated on a certain level, as the lack of entertainment allowed me to catch up on some reading. I read a biography of Truman Capote, which inspired a trip to the bookstore for Answered Prayers, then several back issues of my favorite jewelery-porn magazine, Town and Country. I went through Anthony Burgess's excellent book on language, A Mouthful of Air, then parts of Bill Bryson's Made in America, about American English. Then, I had to go back to the bookstore to buy Her Last Death, which I was so eager to read that I bought it in hardcover and immediately devoured. (Figuratively.) Then, I started Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, in what has to be the Official Tiny Print For the Eagle-Eyed edition.
What my downtime did not afford me was the will to work on any of the several projects I've been putting off. It seems that when I have the time, I lack the motivation, and vice-versa.
My cold seems to be receding, but I am still looking for a cure for my motivational problems. Holistic remedies welcomed.
Star of the day. . ."Daphne"