I’m still feeling a bit hot and snotty. You could, if the desire was pressing, toast marshmallows on the glow from my right ear. I need to thank my kind followers for the wonderful home remedy suggestions. Panama rum and honey is calling my name but I’m going to steer clear of the flat 7UP!
Very little was achieved over the weekend.
I’m still wading through Middlemarch. I’m on page 195. This must be the longest I’ve been stuck in one book since I took it upon myself to read The Children’s Bible at age 8. I had the measles and I was out of school for a month. I recall being mesmerised by a double page spread of Moses parting the red sea.
George Eliot might have done well to have considered some full-colour illustrations, perhaps a fashion plate or two? It would also have been helpful if she had stuck to the flipping story instead of wandering off on endless, rambling tangents. It strikes me that this novel may be all too accurate in it’s portrayal of small town life. Nothing much happens in Middlemarch. I’m struggling but not willing to give up just yet.
In contrast, Middle Girl and I are storming through The Gilmore Girls. Five episodes into season two and it’s still a real treat having something that we are looking forward to doing together. It has to be said; nothing much happens in Star’s Hollow either. Teenage Son claims despair at the on-going marathon although he regularly skulks in to join us. His initial disparagement of ‘ultimate cheese’ has been down-graded to ‘not even cheese, it’s vanilla yogurt’.
He has a point. It is very mild. It’s not hilarious. It’s not terrifying. It’s not even mildly addictive. It’s simply gentle entertainment and I like it. I like the quirky add-ons; the town troubadour and the ever-changing face of Emily’s maid. I like the witty literary references. I like that the heroine, Rory, is kind to her friends and polite to her neighbours. I like that she is proud of her achievements and ambitious for her future. How much more inspiring a teenage role model she is than dreary old Dorothea Brooke who begs her middle-aged husband to allow her to tidy his files. AAAAh, I don’t like her at all!!
I also like that I can knit, scroll Pinterest and watch The Gilmore Girls all at the same time. It makes me feel productive.
Lorelai, the elder, still gets my goat but that’s a story for another day.
I need to get back to gently warming whiskey and pouring rosehip oil into my ear. Or vice versa, whichever works.
PS. Can anybody tell me where the good people at WordPress have hidden the spellcheck button?