Post Perfect Day

In terms of lovely days, yesterday was a work of art. Stuart came home unexpectedly early, and we stayed indoors for the remainder of the day while wind and rain pelted our house. We spent the afternoon horizontally, napping and so laidback we were barely breathing. I took things down a notch with a hot bath. I cooked a delicious peanut chicken stirfry for dinner, and then we watched TV for a while. I find television newscasts hilariously awful, no matter what they are reporting. We watched coverage of a tornado in Hamilton, where a flabby woman without a bra flapped by the camera five times. I began to knit Stuart's Christmas stocking, which was grand. I haven't knit anything in ages, and it's turning out beautifully. And then we really did watch about five hours of Eastenders, loving every minute of it. Johnny Allen has just slammed Peggy's fingers in a door, and we're on edge waiting to see how things unfold. We also want to head-up the Toronto branch of the Stacey Slater fanclub.

The first Penguin Podcast can be had here. How booklovers can help save the trees. Fun at McSweeneys.

Yesterday, thunder crashed and the sky broke in two, it opened up and rain fell through.

For my bibliography class, I have to find a book published before 1860. I got "Lives of Celebrated Women" by SG Goodrich, published in Boston in 1843. From the preface, "Will any one pretend that these persons would have better fulfilled their destiny, if confined to the quiet precincts of the fireside? If woman is only to be housewife, why are gifts bestowed upon her, that make her often the rival and sometimes the master of the other sex, even in the higher walks of ambition?" I wonder if Virginia ever read this book.