2. forty. five. Was the last time I looked at the clock last night. My eyes are sandpaper and my head is lead. This happens every time I find a really good book - or good author - I just can't put it down and I avoid looking at the clock, knowing I'll be dragging when (if?) I get up to fix Andy his lunch at 5:45 in the morning. Last night was one of those nights.
The author keeping my attention, recommended by my friend Loretta out in California, is Linda Nichols. Clifton Forge Library and CP Jones in Covington each have a selection of her novels. Put that name on your list and check her out next time you go - DO it. At the Scent of Water was probably my favorite - but Finding Eden, set in Abingdon, Virginia and Thurmond, WV, was a close second (It even mentions Clifton Forge!). Nichols is a Christian, but her books are far from being sappy or preachy, and she does not shy away from controversial or distrubing topics, but then she is not voyeuristic, either. There are a few authors who try so hard to get the Message across that the story gets lost; in Nichols' work, it is a perfect blend. I was running out of Amish Fiction: Wanda Brunstetter, Beverly Lewis, and B.J. Hoff.
Actually I turned the light off at 1:20AM, but I think my brain was stuck in about third gear and I had trouble shifting down. By this time it was too late to take a Benadryl, which I sorely needed because of what I think is a sinus infection. I lay (lie?) in bed for about 15 minutes, staring at the too-light walls from moolight reflected off light cloud cover. The cat came in and jumped in the window, his body tense and his tail flicking. He did that thing that cats do - focus intently on something unseen, then shift his head and shoulders to get a better, different view. Now, in Chesapeake, that freaked me out because there was always the possibility that indeed there WAS an axe murderer lurking in the dahlias, but here its usually a possum, a deer or Andy's friend, "Mr. Skunk." By the time I retreived my glasses, I couldn't see any of the critters that the cat was stalking, even though I went to the kitchen window and checked under the bird feeder in the unlikely event there was a bear at the sunflower seeds. No such luck. So I trotted back to bed to not sleep some more - moved the cat and snuggled in to watch the shadows on the wall.
And here it is Friday with no definite plans for the weekend, except for Andy to work on the Subaru-oooo, which appears to have a blown headgasket. After my doctor's appointment this afternoon (where I hope I will be prescribed something to fight the goo), its off to WalMart to fill prescriptions - and oh, we're going to look at a desk over in Idlewide I saw on Craigslist.
Hannah just shouted to Abigail, "Get out of here, you're too stinky!" So I better go get fresh pants on that baby....