Though this one contained a fairly substantial snow storm! It's been snowing all day, with temps around 17, and we've gotten about 8". It's 8 pm and still coming down strong--super nice to have a day with no travel plans and a chance to just enjoy the storm. N. and I ran at the Y on the treadmills, practically solo, and I wrote thank you notes and found yarn to complement my fuchsia baby cardi that turned out to need more than the 2 skeins of yarn I bought for it in Belfast. . . . and cleaned the kitchen and such the like. I also finally ordered New Year's cards with the pic that Mom took of us all after the Christmas Eve service. I think it's important to keep reaching out as personally as possible in these days of split-second connections, and I think cards are one way to do that. So here we are. . . I cropped out the lamp for the card, so it's a bit less unevenly lit, but in general, it's a fair show of all four (five, including Zeus) of us, so we're going with it.
I also finished listening to Venetia, by Georgette Heyer, which I'll blog at both Audible and Goodreads. It's a childhood favorite of Ann's and mine, but one that I hardly remember, which means I haven't read it since my last teenage bout of the flu. It was a lot of fun--a good reader, a lovely, strong female lead, a few irritating supporting characters, an interesting conflict and, of course, a dashing rake. I'd like to know more about Heyer as a person, since her protagonists are always so interesting--though I am certainly mired in the Ngaio Marsh biography I started long ago on the same premise! Anyway, Venetia was a fun "listen" in the busy days of December, and a nice way to come down from the high suspense of Career of Evil.
The Lure of the Moonflower by Lauren Willig
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Wish I could give this 2.5 stars: The Lure of the Moonflower, the final entry in the Pink Carnation series, is less ridiculously vapid and mind-numbingly over-written than the recent books. . . which is a sort of a recommendation, I suppose! Especially at the beginning, when Jack is the main focus, Willig's writing is controlled and zippy; after about 1/3 of the story, however, the plot and characterization begins to topple under its own weight, becoming too full of backstory and internal struggle to interest me much. I skimmed.
It really seems that Willig is a skilled writer whose work suffered from its own popularity and the drive to produce more books with little regard for their quality. However, since I recently tried to reread The Pink Carnation itself and ended up giving up in annoyance and donating the book to the Library booksale, perhaps my tastes have changed.
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