Not so much that I didn't stay in bed until 7:30, though. It's a hard knock life around here.
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I saw Megan at our library the other day, and she is cheerfully blackmailing me to issue a retraction of my too-many-Danielle-Steel-novels comment from this post by threatening to publicize how many romance novels I've checked out. (Answer: all of them)
Part of that story is true. Well, part of part of it, anyway. Megan owes me some book recommendations.
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I got me a cover for my I'm-going-to-be-blind-soon-so-I-might-as-well-buy-one Kindle. It is the best thing that's ever existed and gives me deeper joy than a material object legitimately should.
Behold:
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I put a Goodreads badge over there (please imagine a picture of an arrow pointed to your right, because I am too pooped/generally lazy to insert one)*
Tell me what you're reading, please, and how good it is, and if I should also read it.
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The kids and I were on Manitoulin Island again this past weekend. We got home yesterday afternoon and now my father-in-law is here for the week and then we (that's Seth and I, which I sincerely hope is a completely unnecessary clarification) are headed to Stratford for Saturday and Sunday. We will be gloriously child-free, and have mapped out our itinerary strictly by how many steps we'll need to take between restaurants.
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There's a new addition to the very exclusive Pictures Of Herself She Loves club. I predict it will be very popular with the one (1) other member.
That's all I got, lovies. Have I told you lately that I love you? I do. Most sincerely.
*The irony of using 112 characters to explain has not escaped me, nor (I imagine) has it escaped you, dearly loved and very astute reader.**
**And also probably stunningly gorgeous.
