So I wrote yesterday that I thought I could hardly go wrong with the Percy Jackson books I picked up from the Goodwill and the library. Yeah. Well. I was so, so wrong. Blech. I threw The Lightning Thief aside after 60 pages. If you want to read my review, look me up on Goodreads.
Today, I’m looking at getting some knitting done. Number 44 has been cast on, but not much else has been accomplished. While it was great to have a couple of days off, I’m missing my sticks and string. It’ll be good to take them up again.
I’m also missing the sun. Holy crow, I mean, come on. The sky out there looks like the dead of winter instead of mid-spring, there’s still snow on the ground from the round of winter crud we got earlier this week, and I am so, so sick of this. I know I’m preaching to the choir to some extent, depending on where you may be living, but man. This is insane. More than ever, I’d love to be able to just pick up and drive until I find me some sun. Some day, dammit, I’m doing that long, long road trip, with or without the suitable companion.
I need some fresh air today, so am going to try for a walk, barring more snow or rain or pestilence of some kind falling from the skies. You probably can’t tell, but I’m just a wee bit cranky about all this weather crap. I’ve been thinking a lot lately of how we’re all victims of chance when it comes to weather–really, there’s nowhere a person can settle without being at the whim of the weather gods. Something about that just isn’t right.
I used to think I’d love to live in Alaska, then I got to know some folks who actually do live there. Cross that state off my list, though I’d still like to visit sometime. The closest I’ve come to the perfect state is southern Missouri, where a person can experience all four seasons, but not in the overblown way one does in Iowa. Ah well, that book is closed to me now. But someday, by golly, I’ll find another close-to-perfect for me.
I’m off to make the most of the day, despite external circumstances, and I’m hoping you do, too.