Some Stuff ...

It suddenly became cold in my neck of the woods, as Mr. Roker would say. So today I wore a fuzzy sweater, with toasty boots and my glasses (instead of contacts ... this has less to do with The Cold than my itchy-eyed worry that I am getting A Cold). I felt plenty warm all day, to be sure. And my neck itched from the sweater, my socks annoyingly fell down in my boots and the glasses gave me a headache. But then again, I saw snowflakes for the first time here this year, talked to J. (alas, on the phone) while snuggled in my yellow comforter and finished it all with a mug of Nana's special hot cocoa. A rather fabulous end to a regular day ...

P.S. For those who asked: I am reading A Room with a View by E.M. Forster. A sample passage thus far ... and no, I do not know what happens ... I have yet to read the last page:

"This she might not attempt. It was unladylike. Why? Why were most big things unladylike? Charlotte had once explained to her why. It was not that ladies were inferior to men; it was that they were different. Their mission was to inspire others to achievement rather than to achieve themselves. Indirectly, by means of tact and a spotless name, a lady could accomplish much. But if she rushed into the fray herself she would be first censured, then despised, and finally ignored. Poems had been written to illustrate this point.

"There is much that is immortal in this medieval lady. The dragons have gone, and so have the knights, but still she lingers in our midst. She reigned in many an early Victorian castle, and was Queen of much early Victorian song. It is sweet to protect her in the intervals of business, sweet to pay her honor when she has cooked our dinner well. But alas! the creature grows degenerate. In her heart also there are springing up strange desires. She too is enamoured of heavy winds, and vast panoramas, and green expanses of the sea. She has marked the kingdom of this world, how full it is of wealth, and beauty, and war -- a radiant crust, built around the central fires, spinning towards the receding heavens. Men, declaring that she inspires them to it, move joyfully over the surface, having the most delightful meetings with other men, happy, not because they are masculine, but because they are alive. Before the show breaks up she would like to drop the august title of the Eternal Woman, and go there as her transitory self."