It's Saturday night and I'm stuck in the house again. I'm always stuck in the house (I honestly can't remember a Saturday that I went out.) It's raining out side, too; cold and wet. Makes tonight the kind of night that urges any sane person to curl up under the flannel blankets, down comforter, and umpteen pets and sleep until tomorrow afternoon. Unfortunately, I have the soul of a writer and that automatically makes me institutionalizeable . So here I sit, a cold pot of tea before me, a candle burned down past half-mast, and my fingers turning a ghastly shade of pale purple as the blood congeals in my fingertips (oh, look. Now I get something remotely interested typed.)
To keep warm I've been knitting my scarf again. Half a row or so stretches the shoulders, flexes the fingers, and wakes me up enough to stare at the blank page again. And when that doesn't help I turn to reading. On that note, and since it is about 2am on SUNDAY, I suppose I could start Sunday Salon early. I think I'll call it a night after, even if I have to tie myself to the bed (oh, kinky!)
Before I forget. For those of you with a thing for dark jazz, I came across this band today (I like dark, slow, seductive music. It's so very hard to find.) Check out Bohren & der Club of Gore. Their music is definitely worth checking out.
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