No doubt I spend far too much time reading online journals! Very addicting, and while not exactly a terrible habit, I do have other projects I need to be working on. Like the novel-in-progress, or research, or typing up notes/material I've found about our old farmhouse. At any rate, I suppose everyone is entitled to a vice (not counting my obsession with writing, that is!).
Our weather has become gloriously mild after the past weekend of thundershowers. I have enjoyed my afternoon bike rides, pure pleasure! As I biked yesterday, I thought it felt almost like a preview of fall weather, and I am sure looking forward to that, my favorite season here in the South.
DH worked on the garage every afternoon, due to the cooler temperatures. He got it all stripped, and one first coat of white on. Now he'll have to add another coat, possibly next week since showers are again predicted for the weekend. Perhaps he can strip the old wash-house paint this weekend, between showers. Then it'll be ready to pain along with the last coat on the garage.
I went shopping at a discount store yesterday, had some necessary items to buy. I usually go to the shopping mall about two miles from our house, unless I need something I can only find in the city ten-minutes north of us. And tomorrow I have to buy groceries, which I have come to hate.
Today I did housecleaning (as usual), had some time to surf/read journals online, and soon Ill settle down to work on my writing projects. I did want to make this entry first and then I'll have the entire evening to work, since DH has a part-time position for Thursday nights.
I submitted my blog/journal to a website with Alabama blogs, and it is listed there now under, "Somewhere in Alabama." The link will be at the bottom of this site.
I stayed up late last night, finishing Thomas Cook's, "Breakheart Hill." It was truly a mesmerizing read, and I recommend it along with most of his other novels. Especially if you like tragic stories about high school romances gone wrong!
I'll close with a couple of excerpts from the novel, which demonstrate his exceptional poetic prose style:
From Breakheart Hill, by Thomas H. Cook:
“It is the curse of memory to dwell on possibility, to consider not only what was, but what might have been.”
“We think of it as something lurking behind a door. We see it in the glint of a blade or the cold blue muzzle of a gun. It is supposed to come at us from behind a jagged corner or out of a dense, nightbound fog, and we often imagine it as a stalking figure, shadowy and threatening, moving toward us from the far end of the alleyway, watching us with small, malicious eyes.....
But danger, even mortal danger, does not always look like that.... It is not always a stalking figure with raging, red-rimmed eyes, or even a coolly malicious one, patiently waiting in the shadows. It may be something else, something that calls to you gently, gathers you in warmly, caressingly, something that coaxes you sweetly toward destruction.”