Hurry Up, Weekend

I was going to tell you all about this great dream I had last night where the train broke down (?!) just outside the charming little town I live in (only in the dream) and one of the stranded people was Stephanie Pearl-McPhee and I took her back to my charming little house (again...only in the dream) and we had a wonderful time and she was every bit as charming and funny and down-to-earth as she is on the screen and she was totally getting on my case about abandoning my Mystery Stole and was encouraging me to finish it up even if it did involve ripping out six rows and then we found out that the train wasn't going to be fixed until 2:30 a.m. and I was just thinking where we could all go to dinner that would have good food and good music and good beer....and then I had a coughing fit and woke up.

But I won't tell you about that because other people's dreams are pretty boring, right?

I was a little disappointed to go home last night and not find another Amazon box with the second George R.R. Martin (And really? Shouldn't he totally be writing pirate books? George Arrr-Arrr Martin?) book on my porch because they promised me Thursday delivery and, while they dazzled me with the Wednesday delivery of part of the order...come on! I needed that second volume!

The disappointment was slightly assuaged by a box from Webs. Don't know where that came from! (Well, yes, it came from Webs...I just don't remember ordering it. I blame my bronchitis...I must have been feverish.) I'll have to take pictures this weekend of the goodies therein (and the Beaverslide!) because we aren't getting home until dark these days. Or at least, until too-dark-to use-the-Front-Porch-of-Photography kind of light.

The disappointment was completely assuaged by checking the porch later and finding that the second box of books had been delivered! Like magic, I tell you.

But, as eager as I am to pick up the George Martin book, I couldn't bear to leave In the Forest of Forgetting unfinished, so it came to work with me. What a great collection of eerie, dreamlike, slightly strange stories. George will have to wait until the weekend, where I may indulge in some "I've been sick, I need to rest" reading time. Except that I also (badly) need a haircut and my brother's coming over to visit and get his birthday presents and make green papaya salad. Yum. Ooooh, maybe I'll remember to take pictures and I can write about it! (The world waits with bated breath.)

Last night Mr. Pointy Sticks and I lay in bed and watched the first half or so of Mon Oncle. I don't think I've seen that movie since I was a kid, but there were so many things I remembered...the odd apartment building where Mr. Hulot lives...the lamp-post game his nephew and the other boys play...Mr. Hulot bouncing the plastic pitcher and then shattering the glass. It's a quiet movie, with little speaking, and a sort of gentle humor that I don't think would go over well these days. But Jacques Tati was wonderful. I'm looking forward to the second half of the show.