Monday, March 27, 2006

another weekend of chicken soup

0 for 2 on the weekend. the idea of swimming a 500 with lungs still teeming w/Yellow Chunk was too ugly to contemplate seriously, and racing a 5K brick on saturday was a pipe dream anyway; so i devolved into my 7-year old self and spent my weekend in bed with diana gabaldon's Outlander. total chick-dom, and i couldn't put it down.

the copy i read was the library's, the 1991 first edition -- subsequent editions and sequels have veered away from the original romance-y covers -- and it sported thick, substantial pages with edges worn soft by involuntary fingers. such a transport: if i couldn't be myself this weekend, it was just as good being someone else, esp someone getting drilled to ecclesiastic heights every chapter.

p'raps now it's safe(r) to go to scotland, since a pubs & restaurants smoking ban went into effect yesterday. can the sick man of europe claw his way back to health?

2 comments:

fatmammycat said...

Everyone seems to be suffering at the moment. Well, try this, hot whiskey, tablespoon of honey, 4/5 cloves. Mix well and drink and then get back in to bed. It is vile but it does wonders.
Hope you feel better soon.

finn said...

well now ya tell me, FMC -- sure i'm here at work with no honey or cloves to be found.

i shall wait 'til laters. many thanks.