I didn’t really enjoy January – or rather, I didn’t enjoy parts of January. There was much illness and traveling to work in the dark. (I have nothing against traveling to work or darkness but put them together? There are reasons I am not a mole, my friends.)
The Lunar Chronicles … I found the first book hard going, but after that? I gulped down the rest down like one does a cup of tea on a cold day. Or … perhaps ‘eating too much ice cream and suffering from brain freeze afterwards’ would be a less poetic, and yet more accurate, analogy.
King Solomon’s Mines taught me that a) its racism stunk more than comfrey water – and as I once tried to stand in a bin of supposedly frozen comfrey water, I should know – and b) a monocle is the ultimate fashion accessory.
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was sad. All right? It was. Poor George. Silly Ann. Wait? That’s not what this book was about? Really? Well … all right then.
Not many – far too few to my liking. I’ve hit a slump, my friends, and I’m only just attempting to scramble out of it.
On a brighter note, the first few paragraphs of Our Intrepid Heroine the Third have been written:
“Oh come on! He was more interested in the aphids on his roses then a rebel attack in the north. Aphids! Does no one think that’s slightly skewed priorities? No one?”
What do you do when a new year yawns before you? You take it a little bit at a time. Life itself is not promised to us – we only have today, this very moment. The more life seems uncertain, the more I realise that we are all cradled in the palm of His hands.
Do you know what’s perfect to listen to when you’re blinking sleep away whilst getting dressed at an unseemly hour? This:
here’s to a splendid new month, my friends