I should say, there was no other work-related motion from the mailbox. Today I got mittens and Mary Gentle's 1610: A Sundial in a Grave! Yay, ksumnersmith! Oh, my head, it will be eaten. Mary Gentle books always eat my brains. It's lovely. I made delighted croaky sounds, and it is not at all Karina's fault that they were not squeals.
The birthday presents are trickling in a few at a time, which is how I like it. The cold is sticking around much more consistently, which is not how I like it at all. Today is one of those days when it turns out I do best lying down most of the time, or lounging. Feh.
I finished Caroline Stevermer's A Scholar of Magics and liked it even better than A College of Magics, though I have to say I'm still pining for The Grand Tour. Hmm. Pining sounds so romantic and gentle. What I'm really doing is more the mental and literary equivalent of a little kid's gotta-pee dance.
Because heaven knows what I don't have enough of around here is books.
I may have an "oh, dammit, they did it to me again" post later about the book I'm reading now. Be forewarned. In the meantime, it's the sofa and the afghan and a glass of water for me.