Then it was futzing about on the Internet and doing various domestic tasks, and then of to the Goodwill store and Trader Joe's. Goodwill's bookshelves provided me with an interesting looking book called Pre-Raphaelites in Love, by Gay Daly. It focuses on the lives of several women who were models, lovers, and in some cases spouses of some of the major figures in the pre-Raphaelite movement in Victorian England. It's mostly text, of course, but includes a dozen color plates of paintings by the artists (and of the women) in the in the book.
I've been drinking icy drinks all day, and just finished one off minutes ago. It's very weird, considering that just days ago I was shivering whenever I stepped out the door by night. The furnace hasn't even come on yet tonight, and it's still 68 degrees in here. I'm still holding out hope that March will somehow turn wintry, or at least a bit rainy, but it's a very slender hope. The highs are going to be in the seventies all the rest of this week. It's truly an appalling situation. The anticipation of summer now fills me with genuine dread. February feels like spring, but it smells like doom. Sun, Sun, go away, come again another day.