Well. I should have known it. Harper saw the boots and knew immediately just how they should be worn. That girl!
Monday morning. Cloudy. We had a lovely sunny day yesterday and we atoned for only one walk earlier in the week. It was very cold, but we did it. Winter is tricky. The weather determines our walking days. So we haven’t been able to do it as much as we like, but when we do get one in, we feel so much better. I think we’ll go today, as well.
It was a low-key weekend. I finished The Year of the Locust last night – I didn’t read it for a day or two because I wanted to delay finishing it. But last night in bed, I finished. Truly a wonderful book. I couldn’t put it down, all 787 pages of it. Terry Hayes sure knows how to write a tight, engrossing, and whirlwind of a plot. Now, of course, I’m spoiled and nothing will look as good. I’ll get back to Wolf Hall and catch up. Wolf Hall is wonderful but I think I would like it more if I read it like I read The Year of the Locust, rather than a chunk a week. It’s so well written, but I lose the thread. Not the book’s fault at all. When it was War and Peace, I was reading a bit each day, so I was clued into the evolving plot. Not so much this way, as the assigned pages are not daily, but weekly. So I have to get back into it. I may just keep on reading and finish the book. Then when Bring Up the Bodies, the next book in the trilogy, is ready to start – sometime in April, I think – I’ll read that.
These are quality problems.
Movies on the weekend: We watched Laura again. Don didn’t like it. He’s not a fan of Dana Andrews to begin with and he said that he didn’t really care about anyone. I get it. It’s stylish but there’s not a lot of substance. Then we finally watched Wuthering Heights, and I didn’t like it. It was beautifully filmed, as was Laura, but I had no patience with Cathy. Or Heathcliff, for that matter. It’s a gothic romance/ghost story and, though I read only that kind of thing when I was a young teen, this one didn’t do it for me. A young Geraldine Fitzgerald was the best thing in the movie. She was so real, so present.
I much prefer Jane Eyre, where the longing is repressed and the characters are not wallowing in it, which makes for a much more interesting story.
My humble opinion, of course.
Oh, the sun is trying to peek out from the clouds!
Do you have spring fever yet? I confess, I do.
Stay safe.
Happy Monday.