Grab a chair and a couple of root beers...

We went for our usual weekend trip to the San Marcos library last Saturday, and I picked up a book that looked intriguing when I skimmed through it. Captive Queen: A Novel of Eleanor of Aquitaine by Alison Weir.

I thought, Okay, cool, I like historical novels from time to time. Call it a guilty pleasure, but if it's well written, fine... and I checked it out.

And it was... so-so, for the first seventeen pages. And then... the first sex scene came up and I thought, OMG, I can't read het anymore!!

O.O

But, I made myself keep going, then frowned and went back and read the sex scene again, because what followed kinda didn't make sense, and I had to be sure, and then I realized... it wasn't that I can't read het anymore. It's that I can't read badly written het anymore!

Y'all have turned me into a >gasp!< porn snob.

... Eleanor could not stop herself. With a muted cry she went to him, herself pulling his braies down to reveal his engorged penis. She was cherishing it in both hands when Henry's strong arms folded around her, crushing her against him as he pressed urgent lips to her forehead, and then sought her mouth. His fingers, rough with calluses from riding, were tugging at the embroidered neckline of her robe, pulling it down around her hips, then grasping her upper arms to hold her away from him as he stared at her full breasts. Then he bent and released the robe, which fluttered to the floor around her ankles, leaving her standing there naked before him...


]\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ *there, Muta decided to write some slash for you, just to make up for the stuff you just read. Isn't he a sweet cat?*

Anyhow, I decided not to torture subject you to the awfulness of the rest of it. The Impertinent One wants me to pick out bits and pieces to tear apart, but... I don't think I want to work that hard for this book, know what I mean?

What it really makes me want to do is go back to the library and pick up some biographies on Eleanor of Aquitaine and... bleach my brain of the drivel that was in this book. I mean, y'all, I was skipping ahead, trying to get past the awfulness, because the part of me that loves books was utterly convinced that there was something better ahead, and... it just wasn't happening!!

After I'm done with this, I'm either going to pick The Red Pyramid back up, or Down to the Sea: A Epic Story of Naval Disaster and Heroism in World War II by Bruce Henderson. That should work as a brain cleanser, don't you think?

Or I'll go back to working on earrings and such, finishing up for Christmas with the family.

Or I'll watch more Stargate Atlantis on Netflix, if I can get away with it.

I'm also getting used to having both of the kids and the Husbandly One in my back pocket again. His company closes down for two weeks at Christmas, and it's a paid two weeks, so that's all good. This means I'm not alone with the little monsters we get to spend some quality family time together, and do things, like going to see Christmas lights, or shopping, or seeing movies, etc. Or a massive shoveling out extreme house cleaning, since he's available to move things that I can't.

Then there's my plan for World Domination Through Cookies. Definitely have to work on that one.

Okay, well, the natives are getting restless, so... I need to find a better place to hide get up and get busy! Good Solstice to you all!

Hello everyone!!

I have returned from the wilds of Rockport, and aside from a bobble at the beginning, it was a really good trip!

The bobble? Well, let's just say, were it not for Auntie's intolerance for mold, the Village Inn might have been an interesting and picturesque venue for our home-away-from-home.

Extremely low ceilings, damp carpets, damp beds, and damp furniture, an air conditioner that struggled to cool an area five feet in front of it, a shower we had to step up into, and that Auntie knew she'd need help to get out of, due to her wonky right knee, and a chair/ottoman combination with stains of dubious origin... SCARY!!! My first words ten seconds after we walked in was, "I'd better check the closet and make sure there's no dead body in there."

No... seriously.

Ten minutes and two hits of my rescue inhaler later, the Husbandly One realized this place was Not Going To Work, and that he'd better get Auntie out quick or we'd be spending the beginning of the vacation in the emergency room of the local hospital. He grimly went back to the business office, got a refund, reloaded all our luggage and impedimenta into the minivan, and headed for Holiday Inn. Much better! I spent a couple of hours lying down on a nice dry bed after a dose of Benadryl, and recovered enough for us to venture out to a nearby beach, where I mostly curled up on a towel under an umbrella and sketched while THO and the kids romped through the waves.

The following days were much better!

Funny things? Well, on the trip out, we noticed odd things, like a full service salon in Gonzalez called, "All Gussied Up," which cracked me up considerably. The Impossible Son and I noticed an odd tree shaped exactly like an umbrella in one pasture, with a cow standing placidly under it. We had to stop on the way home just to get a photo of it! There was another shop, near Cuero I think, called "The Cattery," and no, it didn't have anything to do with cats, except in the metaphorical sense, perhaps. I believe it was actually a quilting shop, to judge by the fabric bolts in the window.

There was the inevitable discovery of hermit crabs. You know, in all the years I grew up in Houston and went to Galveston, from childhood on up to after I met the Husbandly one, in forays from Stewart Beach, to West, to Crystal Beach, High Island, and Bolivar, I had never, ever encountered hermit crabs. I looked for them, but never found them. I'd find shells, beautiful shells, just the kind they'd love to inhabit... all of them empty. I found jellyfish, Portuguese Man-O-Wars, stingrays, hard-shelled crabs (usually the hard way), baby sharks (again the hard way, and I have the scars to prove it), and mullets... but never hermit crabs.

Then I had kids.

Now, I find them all the time, at every beach we go to. I can't get away from them!! Now I find a lovely shell, pick it up, and ocupado!!

The Husbandly One brought a canopy for shade, which was a Really Good Thing, because I have all the stamina of a three day old kitten. Just walking against the waves was enough to exhaust me, and I'd end up sprawled on a towel under the canopy, snoozing until someone came to wake me up to wander in the waves again, looking for shells, chasing the little silver fish that like to hide in the seagrass, or trying to keep our toes from being pinched by crabs, indignant at our invading feet.

We'd bought a broad spectrum sunblock made by Bullfrog that contained zinc oxide which had a rather funny effect. I mean, it worked really well for me, since I didn't even get pink, but... it made us look like... zombies, or... vampires or... well, if we'd been wearing big black wigs and extreme makeup, we might have passed as geishas on holiday or something! Or maybe like we were going to film a silent movie, about a family going on holiday at the seaside!

And I have pictures, too! What, did you really think I wouldn't post any?

*merry laughter*

However, you will have to wait until morning, because I am just too tired to do it at the moment. So, until then, good night!

ETA: Yes, yes, I know it's Friday, but I was so tired last night, it was all I could do to post to my LJ, so... I'm being lazy and crossposting NOW.