I've often mentioned how freaky Texas weather can be. The latest example: Yesterday, it was warm and sunny (though not in my house, which was cold. I was all bundled up in my heaviest sweatsuit, then stepped outside to get the mail and was surprised by how warm it was). Today? A front came through, so it's cloudy and cold, with gusting winds. The view of the trees outside my window looks like footage of hurricanes. The winds are something like 15 miles per hour steadily, with gusts up to 50 miles per hour.
What does that mean for me? It's reading weather! It's finally cold enough to curl up on the chaise lounge on the loft, with a pot of tea, a good book and some Ella Fitzgerald on the stereo. The book I'm reading now seems tailor made for this kind of day (I'll talk about it when I'm through reading it if I still like it).
I made major house-cleaning inroads yesterday. I put a CD on my portable player, then while the CD played I had to work in that room. I got the kitchen mostly cleaned, then cleared off the "nest" that seems to develop on and around my sofa and coffee table. My big organization feat was putting up a big hook on the wall in my laundry room to hold the big basin I use for pre-soaking clothes, which had been taking up space in my pantry. I got rid of several grocery bags full of trash, and this morning when I used up a tub of margarine, I actually threw the empty tub away instead of saving it to hold leftovers. I already have several of those containers, plus some good kitchen storage containers. I didn't need another one, in spite of all my saving instincts (if I believed in reincarnation, I'd swear I lived through the Depression in my previous life).
I probably ought to do more cleaning today, but you have to take advantage of perfect reading weather when you get it. I just hope the winds don't blow all the leaves off the trees outside my window before they turn their usual crimson. These trees usually stay mostly green until early December, when they turn a deep, dark red. And then they turn brown, fall off, and cover my patio.
Ooh, and if I finish the book I'm reading, I have the new Dick Francis mystery, but that seems more of a rainy-day book. If only it would rain ...