Weather here still amazingly mild for November. It's been in the high 50s/low 60s for a couple of weeks, and we're expecting another nice weekend. Another one! One was good, two great, but three? That's nearly miraculous.

The longer we put off winter the better it is for the general mood of the populace. More importantly, the better my mood. Last year it stayed cold so damn long I thought I'd go insane. For one thing, I get sick and tired of taking pictures of SNOW. Snow and every shade of brown known to man. Must everything turn brown in winter? Really?

I thought I couldn't take one more day of it, that I'd perish if something didn't warm up and soon. Spring would tease, then back away. Tease, back away. Kind of like me and menopause. Only my situation is likely to last a decade or more. I'm pretty sure winter won't. Then again, I was pretty sure the White Sox would win the World Series again this year. You can't always count on me. I know. Shocks me, too.

If I'm going to do any enjoying of weather, it'll have to be Saturday. I need to get outside and plant the rest of my flower bulbs. I put in some, but when it got so dark I couldn't see my shovel in front of my face I figured it was best I stop, if only for the sake of my digits. But this Saturday maybe I can finish, if it's really as nice outside as they say.

We've had three or four decent frosts, but the ground's still soft enough to dig. Good news for those of us not that fond of effort. All hail sloth!

  

Frost

The flower bulbs I have are mostly daffodils (multi-varieties and colors) and a few pink hyacinth. If I get incredibly ambitious (won't happen) and wind up getting everything planted, maybe I'll go out for more hyacinth in different colors. If there are any more in the stores.

Frost 2

Reading… I need to finish Cry, the Beloved Country for the classics group at the library. The meeting's next week. I'm already about halfway through, so no worries.It's good to read some world literature for a change, since I'm American/English biased. Not in any conscious way; it just happens.

I finished listening to Penelope Lively's The Photograph this week.Well written and paced, dramatized wonderfully by the readers, I give it my highest recommendation as a "thumping good read." Or listen, in this case.

It's the kind of old fashioned novel that has riveting plot AND compelling characters. Just a fascinating story about a widower who finds a photograph of his late wife, hands entwined with her own sister's husband. Throughout the book he becomes obsessed by her as he'd never been in her lifetime, at least not after they married. A very poignant read. Lovely. It made the commute to and from my practicum feel shorter. 

Another thing occupying my time, I'm continuing to work on our digital photos: correcting those that need it, sending lots of them to be printed. Getting them printed is fun. A bit too fun. I do it through both Walmart, who crops, prints and ships them to my doorstep. Tra la! It's cheap having them printed, it's just buying the frames that costs.

I've also joined up at Snapfish.com, who gave me 50 free prints for joining, plus 12 free holiday photo cards.Woo hoo! I've already gotten the prints, and the quality looks great. AND, today they sent me an email telling me I can get a free photo book.

I think I love them.

Here's the first photo wall, in our family room. All these happen to have been taken by me, and as you can tell we're following the modern "pay no attention to symmetry" rule. We're nothing if not cutting edge. Note the bleached wood coffee table, and welcome to the 1990s. They've missed you.

NOTE: Anyone who says, "I was born in the 1990s!" will be summarily ignored.