Back in the Saddle

. . . for now anyway.  Seems that my contrary computer's modem is playing nice today so I can finally go online and do some studying.  The downtime has given me a chance to catch up on some reading.  I've dived back into my regency books, Stephanie Laurens only, and using this extra time have re-read some of my not-so-favourite titles - you know, just to see if time has made them any better.  Guess what?  It worked!  I was never too fond of the last book in the Bastion Club series (Christian Allardyce, Marquess of Dearne's story) but found that having not read any regencies for over 6 months, I got into it.  While it is by no means my favourite book in the series, I did enjoy it a lot more.

I'm still waiting - not so patiently now - for my Amazon UK parcel to arrive.  I  bought a copy of Jean Auel's Land of Painted Caves for mum, plus a copy of Treachery in Death by JD Robb.  I know that I could reserve a copy of the book from the library, but I'm doggedly waiting for my copy to arrive. . . someday?

On the home front, the weather has turned rather chilly the last few nights.  Not doona weather really, but you certainly need more than a light blanket on the bed.  This gave me a case of 'spring cleaning', so I attacked my rooms, dug through the linen cupboard and washed my flanelette sheets (no laughing okay) so that they would be nice and fresh to sleep in.  There's nothing nicer than snuggling down in a freshly made bed to sleep at night. 

I just thought I'd throw this in here at the end.  Our local neighbourhood peacocks are still on the loose here.  I woke up the other morning to find the beautiful male just wandering past my back door.  I rushed in to get the camera but by the time I got back to the door all I managed to get was a photo of his tail feathers disappearing around the corner of the tank.  So I crept up on the back landing, quiet as a mouse, and managed to locate them around the other side of the house.  I waited until they made their way back towards the shed before I managed to get a picture of the cheeky little buggars.  They are as quick as lightning when they want to be, and have you heard their calls?  They sound like a sick goose on steroids!  Hooooonk, hooooonk.  That when they aren't screaming bloody murder.  There's an old couple that used to live on acreage at the end of our street that used to breed them.  As a child, you'd hear them going at night, and I would have sworn it was some poor screaming her lungs out.