It was an unexpected snowfall.
Now, this may mean nothing more than I forgot to check the weather forecast. Regardless, I was surprised to wake to a sight unusually rare this winter: the ground and trees coated in fresh snow. I looked outside and thought that perhaps it would be an excellent day to curl up with a book and a cup of hot chocolate in front of the (gas) fire, the weather a perfect excuse for staying in.
Instead I went out. Despite the snow, the temperatures were above freezing, the roads fairly clear, and the bookstore beckoned.
The closest Barnes & Nobel is roughly 50 minutes away. With other options closer, I’ve never been in one, but the temptation to visit a new-to-me bookstore when opportunity arose overcame my inclination to spend the day in, and I was rewarded by finally—finally—finding a copy of Wives and Daughters. The War and Peace below is much more common but I’ve been eying it for a while. My venture out of doors was rewarded.
Of course, my sluggish reading pace this past week didn’t deserve reward. I’ve somehow managed to take to heart of late Douglas Adams’ statement, “I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”
Only the library renewals have been acknowledged, and so I have a pile of books I
need to would like to finish this week. As most of them are Shakespeare related, I would also need to post on them by Friday if I wish to include them for Allie’s readalong. I suppose I post this here as a warning, that if all goes to plan— although it most surely won’t, such is life—I may have an uncharacteristic number of posts this week. I will try, as this is Venice reading month, and I surely wish to return, in spirit if not person. (No, not person just now: it’s so cold this week the canals are beginning to freeze over.)
Best of reading to all; the books beckon.