I have a love-hate relationship with lazy weekends. For one, they’re amazing and I love not having to do anything or be anywhere. But on the other, I don’t like “wasting” gorgeous weekends. I love adventuring and exploring and doing… and staying home generally doesn’t allow me to do that.
Well, this weekend, thankfully, it did. I relaxed, chilled, and went on more than a few small adventures. I even got the whole front garden fixed up!
- Breakfast by 11:00 at Kelly’s
- Lets get stuff done! Nope… instead, let’s just set ourselves in the park and finish reading Ocean at the End of the Lane
- Head home and pull out all the gardening toys; turn the soil, plant the bulbs, and start the peas going.
- Get the peas all planted, set some stakes, and then go inside to set the tomatoes going… wait, I didn’t leave any room in the planters for tomatoes. <shrug>
- Plant some more, play with the tomatoes, and relax for a bit
- Quesadillas for lunch… very late lunch, but chicken quesadillas are amazing
- go buy a steak from McKinnons, then take a nice slow walk around the area
- Game or two with Chirag on League, we clean house
- Steak for dinner, chilling and watching movies
A perfect Saturday, 12-Apr-14
I think I remember why I stopped reading, back before high school.
I should clarify that – I never stopped reading, but I stopped reading as voraciously as I had before. In grade school and middle school, I read through literally every Star Wars book that they was. I was waiting for new books to be published, so that I could escape back into that world. In high school, I did keep reading… but at a much slower pace. I did other things with life – I talked to people, played video games, and above all studied… sort of. Mostly homework. That’s incidental.
Finishing up “The Ocean at the End of the Lane” today reminded me of the deep melancholy and sadness that hits when you finish a story. I finished reading in the park, paging past the acknowledgements and shutting off the kindle, and wished that I could return to those characters… to hear more stories about what happened. I wish that it had ended differently (though I know that it had to end the way that it did), and that I could hear more stories about Lettie and the unnamed narrator, and how they traveled the world working magic and protecting us.
But, it just ended. It ended in the way that it needed to – this is a Neil Gaiman book, after all.
I’m still sad though…
I think I’ll read it again. Maybe re-read American Gods.