I love it. The sky is overcast and has been all day. The air is cool but heavy, and the sound of thousands of leaves rustles through my windows. I've turned off the AC, opened every window and door I can, and it settles my soul. The menfolk are in Hickory at their various Tuesday activities. The womenfolk are sitting in a quiet house. The dog is snoozing on the cold hearth. I've brought no work home, have no movies to watch. I've read half of Candide since last night, which is enough Voltaire for 24 hours.
What should I do with my evening? Walk around the block? (did that last night) Practice piano (I'm tired of piano for now) Blog? (yeah, but I'll be done with that in about 5 minutes...) I finished my latest Victoria magazine.
[Aside...Marie, I think YOU should be featured in Victoria magazine. They always have antique cards and such. You would be a perfect fit!]
I would really like to crochet for the evening. Now that's relaxing. Haven't crocheted in a very long time.
And I started rereading Jewett's "Country of the Pointed Firs" last night. To offset the effect of so much required literature reading, I always have to have a book to read just for pleasure. To remind me that there is still such a thing.