Mercury dropping in the mouth of the dying day. Should do a laundry and hang to dry in the heat of the furnace that I will bump up to a giddy 18C tonight. Only, knees are unhappy at the cold and dank etc. and not wanting to use basement stairs. At least I got the recycle out in good time.
Mice are back. They scorn my trap. Have bought a wintergreen cleaning spray and hope it's pepperminty enough to keep them off the counter. Alas that I hate the smell of peppermint too.
Finished?
Derleth, The Chronicles of Solar Pons
-- with a Dickensian story to round it off in happy synchronicity with A Christmas Carol
Blake, There's Trouble Brewing
Blake, A Question of Proof
-- really enjoying these. Very twisty plotting. C. Day is classic enough that kindle prices him accordingly, but I'm still working my way through the library's copies
Reading now?
It appears I have an untouched Elizabeth Ferrars, The Doubly Dead, that I somehow completely forgot I owned. An unexpected pleasure, especially since if I want to read her at the reference library I must put in a stack request and either wait two hours, or put the request in the day before and hope it will be ready when I drag my bed-bound self out the door. Given winter narcolepsy and the difficulty of being anywhere before noon, this is not optimal.
Also have Dark Matter: Reading the Bones for bicycle readig.
Reading next?
Shall see what those Father Brown/ Sherlock Holmes pastiches are like.
What I'd really *like* is a Marcus Corvinus, but somehow I've managed to remember the plots of all the ones I own, including the ones I only read once. This is very unusual, and I don't care for it.
