Today, Eloise and I decided to take it easy.
I wasn’t feeling so well, and I had a bit of an eye infection (so no eye makeup for me!) The only thing for it was to wear something comfy and perform small tasks that can mostly be done while lounging. Which means I didn’t really get anything done today.
I’ve pretty much just fallen into a funk, my friends. I am abandoning my current project due to the fact that I don’t like it at all (but we’ll talk more about that later) and I haven’t even begun my next project (except for cutting the paper pattern pieces). I just feel like I’m not getting anything done.
On the one hand, it’s not a big deal, because what’s the hurry? But on the other hand, I’m not very happy when I’m not creating something.
But, as we all know, these dry spells happen, and then they pass, and it’s okay.
Top: Sewing with Knits Tee (with mods–yes, you’re already seeing this one again!)
Today’s book: The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins
Just about everything I’ve read by Collins is really good. But by far, my favorite is The Moonstone. If you like mysteries or if you appreciate 19th century literature at all, you really must read this book. It reminds me of a Dickens novel where the plot at first seems deceptively simple, but as you go along things become darker and more twisted and involved. In this case, a diamond is stolen but that is only the beginning of a series of bizarre occurrences that must be unraveled by the inestimable Sergeant Cuff (a Sherlock forerunner). What makes the book really lovable, I think, is that the story is told from the perspective of several different characters, many of whom are quirky and delightfully ridiculous.
“Nobody knows as much as you do, Betteredge, about what went on in the house at that time. So you must take the pen in hand, and start the story.”
In those terms I was informed of what my personal concern was with the matter of the Diamond. If you are curious to know what course I took under the circumstances, I beg to inform you that I did what you wold probably have done in my place. I modestly declared myself to be quite unequal to the task imposed upon me–and I privately felt, all the time, that I was quite clever enough to perform it, if I only gave my own abilities a fair chance.
(For another equally fantastic read, I suggest Poor Miss Finch. )