It's been a quiet day around here. Fuzzy was bitten by a bug, and is having a mild allergic reaction, for which he decided to take two benadryl caplets. Okay, that is the recommended dosage, but half of one knocks ME out, and I've got a tolerance to antihistamines. Fuzzy barely even takes ibuprofen. Translation: he was comatose most of the day. Also he's very cranky, and apparently has forgotten that he's stoic!boy and I'm the cranky one.
I finally finished Atlantis Found, by Clive Cussler, my first experience with his work. It was fun, I guess, but half of it took place in antarctica, and I kept expecting to look outside and see a blizzard, and then was bitterly disappointed to see only unrelenting sunshine.
The weather is turning cooler again, however, and when I stepped outside to supervise the dogs' evening activities I noticed that the metal arms of the deck chairs are distinctly cold. I love that. I love crisp evenings of firelight and tea. If it could be fall weather all year, I'd be completely happy. Well, except that there'd have to be rain. Not all the time, but a healthy amount. We're still woefully behind on rainfall here, and everything feels restless as if its waiting for fall to, well, fall.
As Fuzzy is both sick and on call, our weekend will be a lazy one, but that's alright, because I'm in a puttering-in-the-kitchen kind of mood, and I have a stack of new books to read, and a month and a half of books to update on my bookblog. (Warning to LJ users, there will be a lot of book posts filtering through here this weekend.)
I've sent my annual Halloween CD to a few select people, and copies of my summer burn collection to a few more, well, two more, and am in search of new music. I'm in a “kicky acoustic coffeehouse rock by women” sort of mood, music wise, but I never know what to listen to. Suggestions are always welcome. Especially if they can be found on Napster or eMusic.
And on that note, my book is calling.