Showing posts from July, 2013


I’m a Libra.   I try for balance in all areas of my life. But I’m a Libra—the scales often tip more one way than another. Anyone who knows me knows that I sometimes become obsessed by random things.   This week it appears it was the birth of the #RoyalBaby. To me, no matter what they name him, he will always be #RoyalBaby.   This is, after all, the age of Twitter.   From the moment I booted up my computer and saw the MSN breaking news was Kate was in labor, I was hooked.   My first tweet of the day read: Dear Boss: I can't come in today. Kate's in labor. She needs me. ‪ #‎RoyalBaby Of course I went to work. I may be obsessive but I also have a mortgage to pay. Still, like a cat, I was fascinated by all the bright shiny things that comprised news of the #RoyalBaby’s imminent arrival. Like a cat after a ball of string, all day, I chased news across Twitter and CNN. One cranky friend, apparently tired of my breathless Facebook updates wrote, “Dear God. Don't tell

Words, You See, Are the Thing

I am reading George Durrells’ , "My Family and other Animals.” His writing, his words , causes my breath to catch in my throat, my pulse to quicken. You see, for me, words are the thing.  I love words― words strung together to not only tell a story but to paint a picture, words that are beautiful in and of themselves: “The Turk, when he arrived turned out to be a tall, young man , with meticulously waved hair and a flashy smile that managed to convey the minimum of humour with the maximum of condescension.   He had all the smug self-possession of a cat in season.” “…and then Margo, trailing yards of muslin and scent. Mother looking like a tiny, harassed missionary in an uprising…” Thus, I’ve decided to dedicate this blog to quotes from some of my favorite books by some of my favorite authors. Erastes , author of gay historical fiction, writes prose that is clean and spare yet full of depth as with: “Warmth generated between them everywhere they touched, skin a