It's a perfect day for a read-a-thon. My favorite kind of day, in fact. The rain somehow seems to give me permission to read, looking at this view out of our living room window, trying to ignore my husband. He's wandering around looking through each window, as though it will offer a different sort of day, grumbling. "Look, the frost got all the flowers a few nights ago. I'm glad I mowed the lawn yesterday. When it wasn't raining. If it wasn't rainy, I could be outside today."
The man has no use for a rainy day.
I, on the other hand, am in my element. I have many plans for the day. The read-a-thon started two hours ago, and I've participated like this:
Hour 1: sleeping
Hour 2: toasting an English Muffin, spreading it with Bonne Maman marmalade, composing an introductory post to the day. If one isn't careful, the day can become a series of posts, and memes, and leaving comments rather than reading.
But reading is what I'll do when I'm not making a chicken pot pie for dinner. I have a ridiculously light read going on now, so embarrassing I'm not even going to reveal the title, and then I'll finish the list for the IFFP Shadow Jury. I have to finish The Ravens. I have to begin and complete Bloodlines. That's my plan for the day.
As I listen to the soothing sound of falling rain.
