November 14th, 2014

granada holmes

winter is icumen

... and the arrival of cooler weather means I get to break out my John Watson look-alike sweaters. Plus, familial units of various degrees of relations have been looking for photo evidence that I do on occasion smile. So have a selfie.

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Notice the many books just in frame. I worked hard to find a place that wasn't that piled high with books in my bedroom; just this much of a stack is a bit of an accomplishment.

Winter also means lots of other fun stuff. No need for AC as I'm always feeling overheated wherever I am; tea nad cider and hot cocoa and sweet things to dunk in them; and the way jumpers and sweatshirts make me feel cuddled all over. You know, the usual. Plus the freedom not to shave for anyone, Sherlock Holmes or otherwise, except myself. (Because, you know, itchy legs.) Boo-yeah.

Plus, you know, jazz. Cool wintry jazz that just makes you want to settle in, close your eyes, and be. Miles Davis. Thelonius Monk. Dave Brubeck. Vince Guaraldi. (He's not just Charlie Brown...) And, apparently, John Coltrane.

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