This will be a short post. I only finished four books in April. I finished another today and can finish one more tomorrow, if I get the time. But those two are May books.
We're still getting settled in our new house. We just painted the bedroom closet. There's a huge walk-in closet upstairs. I love it and really hate moving my clothes downstairs. But I get it. I'll leave the winter clothes and seldom worn shoes in the walk-in and bring lighter clothes and shoes I wear all the time downstairs.
I unwrapped all the artwork yesterday. There are originals by local artists, there are prints of paintings I can't afford, and there are original prints, if that makes sense. I hang the prints in my bathroom and plan to hang the originals in the living room and dining room. I had been thinking that we had less wall space in this house because it has more windows. But it also has more rooms, so there is more wall space. Now it's just deciding which pictures to hang where.
We've been spending a lot of time watching birds at the feeders. After living in Philly for twelve years and seeing almost exclusively pigeons, English sparrows, starlings, the occasional hawk and cardinal, we're overwhelmed (not what I meant in the title of this post) by birds we haven't seen since Marshfield and a couple of new birds. We have goldfinches, chipping sparrows, white-throated sparrows, probably more sparrows that I haven't identified yet, blue jays, cardinals, Carolina wrens, cowbirds, catbirds, turkey vultures, and more. The more unusual birds we've seen are the brown thrasher we saw this morning, the two pairs of rose-breasted grosbeaks, which we've never seen before, and the indigo bunting, which I've only seen once before. A hummingbird has been checking out the hummingbird feeder but hasn't stopped to drink. It's like an avian Cirque du Soleil!
So, here's the list of April books:
The Wench is Dead - Colin Dexter
Die Trying - Lee Child
Free Air - Sinclair Lewis
A Darker Domain - Val McDermid
I have to say that none of them were really terrific. Or maybe it's just the mood I've been in. I keep feeling that when I'm reading, I really should be doing something else. It makes it hard to 'get lost in a book'. Don't you always feel a little depressed or disappointed when you spend the time to read a book and it fails you? I keep hoping that I can find more time to read. How do you find time to read? Before bed? In the morning? Do you take hours during the day? And do you ever feel like you're wasting your life if you're not reading?!