|09:45 pm - How can it be only Wednesday?|
Haven't biked up the hill in over two years. Did today, and survived, though it was one of those dreadful April winds that always blew from the direction I was going in- north going up the hill, south coming down, east going towards Yonge and west going away from it. So I should be pleased with myself, but the reason I was biking is that it's a 6 block walk from the subway to my accountant's and I didn't trust my knees to get me that far even with a cane. And of course they complained mightily about the ride as well.
Last book finished?
The Whole Art of Detection, still with feminist!Holmes but still fun enough.
The Wandering Scholars, the perennial Distant Mirror, and an Elizabeth George in my back pack that I really don't feel like reading. Why are there no atmospheric English detectives when I need them? who aren't dweebs or misogynists or drunks or old-fashioned bash-em-up coppers, as per the usual choice of detective inspectors.
The House of Binding Thorns is on its way from the library. I had trouble with her narrative style in the Acatl series, so we'll see how this one goes.