Our camping trip was a darned wash-out. That isn't to say we didn't stay out camping; we did. We are a hearty race, we Heffingtons, and take a Post Office-ian view of our scraped-together vacation time: "neither snow nor hail nor wind nor rain shall keep us from our rounds." So we dripped and moisted and generally made slippery nuisances of ourselves. In the worst parts of the day we ferried across to Williamsburg and inhabited the outlet stores and shops. Funny, because I didn't have any money to spend so I was strictly window-shopping.
The second day I got to spend quite some time hovering in the College of William & Mary's B&N bookstore. That was a lovely thing. I came in at a brisk trot from dodging rain and was quite wet but once inside, the store was just the thing to minister to a mind diseased by overmuch standing out in the elements. I made myself laugh with various P.G. Wodehouse novels in the aisle. I hunted up Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers. I picked up a biography of Audrey Hepburn which I very much wanted to have money to buy, and Mama thunked a huge tome of The Letters of P.G. Wodehouse into my hands. Darn her mushrooms, it was $35.00. When I actually have an income, my expenditure will be equally divided between Books and Starbucks. Who needs food, shelter, and clothing? I ask you! Benjamin found a volume of the entire script from Downton Abbey S 1. This would be devastating for our family as we are all fair hands at British accents and love to act. You'd never see us outside of that tome did it ever set leaf in our house. In addition to all these finds, I found the most curious book: excerpts and photos of drawings from the travel journals of the rich & famous. Such a converstaion-piece; wish I'd had funds to buy that too. I perused the youth section and made up my mind to buy one something for a certain comrade's gift come Christmastime as well as deciding I want a copy of The Hobbit with the pretty green/blue/black symmetrical cover. You know the one. I also decided that I haven't read enough Lois Lowry, so we'll have to remedy that soon.
As far as what I've been actually reading (versus yearning over in the bookstore), that runs rather scapegrace:
The Sacrifice by Beverly Lewis (not too keen on Amish romances but I promised the sister-in-law-ish.)
The Mind of the Maker by Dorothy Sayers (almost done)
The Mystery of the Blue Train by Dorothy Sayers (good fun. I never suspected the culprit but then...I never do.)
Ella Enchanted (I keep finding kid-novels I somehow neglected to read and therefore one of my favorite treats is to bundle myself off with a thoughtless read like that and pretend I'm eleven again.)
Autumn is reluctant in coming temperature-wise but I fixed that by wearing dark-wash jeans, a golden-rode colored shirt and a deep blue cardigan. Take that, thermometer. Well, my cinnamon scones are calling and I've got to make a latte to accompany them. Cheers and all that.