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It's been an eventful weekend, although I'm now in the wind-down portion of the festivities. Yesterday Bemo and I actually got up at a semi-reasonable hour and finally made it to one of the three farmer's markets here - this is the big one that features some produce and meats, but is also very heavy on the baked goods, crafts, and jewelry. We ended up eating some utterly fantastic goat-cheese tapinade sort of spread on a loaf of bread while sitting on a park bench. I'm determined to go earlier next Saturday.
We then meandered over to a coffee shop with a seating area in a nice little shady courtyard, and just chilled and read the paper. I discovered that the racing season at the little local racetrack was still on, and the first race had a post time of two pm, so we drove over, paid our two bucks each to get in, and spent the rest of the afternoon placing bets of imaginary money (along with the occasional real bet - I lost four dollars and seventy cents). I still do have a lot of problems with the racing industry in the U.S., and I'm glad to see that they're finally starting to get their butts in gear to clean it up a bit, but I also can't deny that I love the sheer excitement I get from watching racing. Please, racing industry, get smarter about all this crap, and don't force me to boycott you entirely.
That night, I went off to the second meeting of the play-reading circle. The play chosen was The Children's Hour, written in 1934 by Lillian Hellman. I'd heard of it (and of the movie with Audrey Hepburn and Shirley Mcclaine) but hadn't ever read it or even knew what it was about. It's an absolutely fantastic play - powerful and disturbing, and I'm so glad this group got me to read it.
Today was spent driving up to Omaha, and attempting to spend a birthday gift card. To my disgust (and slight shock) I was really hard-pressed to spend the money, because the stuff I wanted wasn't there, and what was there wasn't what I was looking for at all, so I ended up drifting around. I finally made Bemo get a cd and a few guitar magazines. It was the strangest feeling wandering around a bookstore and going, "I'm not feeling any of this" but there you have it. And then we went to the Torrid in the mall down thre street and I found a great dress I would have eagerly bought - but couldn't justify spending the money to myself. I'll have to think about going back for it later, but we'll see.
Now I'm back home, and continuing my unexpected but very wonderful plunge into Victoria Holt gothics. I've torn through The Shivering Sands and Mistress of Mellyn and am now most of the way through The Shadow of the Lynx. She doesn't have the flair that Mary Stewart has, and she's not as fun as Elizabeth Peters can be, but something about her books is working on me like crack and I have a stack of them to plough through in the next few days. Before long, I'll be seeing suspicious men lurking in every shadow.
We then meandered over to a coffee shop with a seating area in a nice little shady courtyard, and just chilled and read the paper. I discovered that the racing season at the little local racetrack was still on, and the first race had a post time of two pm, so we drove over, paid our two bucks each to get in, and spent the rest of the afternoon placing bets of imaginary money (along with the occasional real bet - I lost four dollars and seventy cents). I still do have a lot of problems with the racing industry in the U.S., and I'm glad to see that they're finally starting to get their butts in gear to clean it up a bit, but I also can't deny that I love the sheer excitement I get from watching racing. Please, racing industry, get smarter about all this crap, and don't force me to boycott you entirely.
That night, I went off to the second meeting of the play-reading circle. The play chosen was The Children's Hour, written in 1934 by Lillian Hellman. I'd heard of it (and of the movie with Audrey Hepburn and Shirley Mcclaine) but hadn't ever read it or even knew what it was about. It's an absolutely fantastic play - powerful and disturbing, and I'm so glad this group got me to read it.
Today was spent driving up to Omaha, and attempting to spend a birthday gift card. To my disgust (and slight shock) I was really hard-pressed to spend the money, because the stuff I wanted wasn't there, and what was there wasn't what I was looking for at all, so I ended up drifting around. I finally made Bemo get a cd and a few guitar magazines. It was the strangest feeling wandering around a bookstore and going, "I'm not feeling any of this" but there you have it. And then we went to the Torrid in the mall down thre street and I found a great dress I would have eagerly bought - but couldn't justify spending the money to myself. I'll have to think about going back for it later, but we'll see.
Now I'm back home, and continuing my unexpected but very wonderful plunge into Victoria Holt gothics. I've torn through The Shivering Sands and Mistress of Mellyn and am now most of the way through The Shadow of the Lynx. She doesn't have the flair that Mary Stewart has, and she's not as fun as Elizabeth Peters can be, but something about her books is working on me like crack and I have a stack of them to plough through in the next few days. Before long, I'll be seeing suspicious men lurking in every shadow.
