... that I wasn't born in France during the French Revolution.
There have been periods of sunshine this week, so I've pretended it's still the summer and rushed onto my back patio after work and tanned/read til the sun moves behind my greenhouse. I live in my little fantasy world for about 40 minutes.
Today, I had to move my chair. The earth has tilted and the sun is lower in the sky and if I wanted 40 minutes of sunshine, I had to follow it around my yard. This should not be. Seriously. We're into the second week of September and the sun is acting like it's done. Finished being all summery and nice.
Whatever.
I finished reading this, this afternoon. And I'm glad I'm not expected to be a female muskateer/Robin Hood in a world gone crazy with killing each other with guillotines. From a historical viewpoint, it was interesting. From a novel viewpoint, it was OK. From a romantic point of view it was boring.
There you have it.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. I've been told I should be thankful that I have no one to prepare meals for most nights. So yay. Here's me being thankful that I spent another evening eating chicken noodle soup by myself at the counter while reading about William Woodsworth's french mistress.
2. Forty minutes of sunshine every afternoon.
3. Chicken Noodle Soup.
Shalom,
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