Rather Anti-Climactic Week, Here

Hey.

Quiet tonight.

Boys are in bed. House is looking gorgeous. Caught up on laundry and seriously considering some kind of clothing moratorium for fall. You can change (must change, actually) skivvies daily, but everything else gets three days' wear or you go nekkid until the three days is up. We produce too much laundry. It's amazing. Then I think of Mel Gibson's poor mother and feel pretty footloose about our piles. Still, there's probably room for improvement in here somewhere.

I'm reading a biography of Ayn Rand (and why didn't anyone tell me it rhymes with mine not payne?!? Thanks, y'all! Sheesh. At least I can pronounce Goethe, even if I can't do the little doppleganger doohickies on top of my vowels when I type. What are those, again?) Anyway. Wow. It must be time for an early night. The words are flowing, but not in any one direction.

SO. *ahem* *sips coffee* Yes. I'm reading this biography, in which the author claims to be "neither a disciple nor a critic" of Rand's. He comes across as just a wee bit schizophrenic, to be honest. I'm toolin' along, reading pretty basic discourse and then out of nowhere he throws out, at the end of a paragraph, "Obviously, she missed the point of the complexity of the issue." Then he moves on, and the reader is left thinking, "What the hell is he talking about?" (Pardon the swearing, but that is EXACTLY the word that comes to mind 98 pages into this book, after he pulls that weird segue for the umpteenth time.) He makes a number of random judgement calls out of nowhere, but does nothing to back them up or expound on them, leaving the reader going back time and again in a futile attempt to figure out what she missed. (Futile because you did not miss anything. His comments are just There. Alone. With nothing to hold them up or tell you where they came from. They're like mental orphans.) At this point, I'm finishing the book because I'd like to see if this continues, and if I ever grow accustomed to it. Still better than Huxley, but man I miss O'Brian, and as far as non-fiction goes, this guy has nothing on Forrester. *smile*

Let's see... what else? It's only mid-August. Or that's what you'd think if you woke from a coma and wandered outside today. Hot. Too hot for late September. It's hot. Yuck.

Oh! And did I TELL YOU that our library is going to be adding the ability to put books on hold?!?!? This is better than Christmas for me. Well, it might be Christmas before it kicks in, so that's probably not a good description. Anyway, I made a pathetic attempt to hit the library sans children one night after supper, before they closed. (Have you seen those shopping game shows, where contestants fly down the aisles, indiscriminately throwing items into their carts, careening around corners to beat the clock to the checkout stand? There's your image. I still have no idea what I checked out.) I asked at the counter if they had *pant, pant* considered adding that *wheeze, pant* feature. You know, since iBistro was *gassssspp* developed here... it would make sense to *pant* use the features incorporated into it... and... I had to stop talking or risk passing out from hyperventilation. It's hard to run down stairs carrying a basket of books when you're out-to-here pregnant! The nice man waited for my gasping to subside so I could hear him over the sound of my own inhalations and said yes, they've actually been trying to get it up and running for a while and it's just taken a lot longer than anyone anticipated. He does expect it to kick in soon, though. WOOHOO!!! I'm so psyched!! HOLD! HOLD! A beautiful word. It is the blessing of mothers in libraries everywhere to be able to pick up preselected titles and then spend the library time snuggling, teaching and guiding their children through the Library Experience. Yay for the Madison County Library System!!

Ah, and on that note, I'd better get some rest. I promise not to be so random with tomorrow's blog.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy