I simply don't have the energy to live my life as if it was a made-for-TV movie (and if I did, I would ask that I be played by Susan Sarandon or Nicole Kidman, thank you, even though Nicole is much taller -- and Susan a tad bit older -- than I am in Real Life).
Today involves the following: Buying a Christmas tree; cleaning the living room in the preparation of the arrival of said Christmas tree; finding my Christmas decorations in the basement; and eating The Husband's meatloaf. Yesterday was knitting, the Moscow Cats Theater, and coney dogs (with mustard).
I love my life. No crises.
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Typing stuff for the sake of typing stuff (I tend to do this a lot):
On Reading Lord Dunsany's Book of Wonder
by H.P. Lovecraft
The hours of night unheeded fly,
And in the grate the embers fade;
Vast shadows one by one pass by
In silent daemon calvacade.
But still the magic volume holds
The raptur'd eye in realms apart,
And fulgent sorcery enfolds
The willing mind and eager heart.
The lonely room no more is there --
For to the sight in pomp appear
Temples and cities pois'd in air
And blazing glories -- sphere on sphere.
