Blame It On That Scotsman.

I feel a bit like I've dropped off the face of the planet. I sort of have, actually. It's all my fault though. You see, before Xmas, I was chatting with Mom, and she asked if there was anything I needed to bring. This is a recreation of that moment... that moment that should have had some kind of menacing 'dun-dun-DUN' music attached to it.

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Me: "No, no that I can think of."

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Mom: "Are you sure?"
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Me: "Hey, actually... can I borrow the Outlander books? I was going to read the new one, but I figured that I should maybe refresh my memory on what's going on." (By Diana Gabaldon. If you've read them, you know how enjoyable they are. If you haven't, they're about a time-traveling nurse & a Highlander.)

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Doesn't sound like a bad idea, eh? Until you take into account how very many words are in those books, and how well written & engaging they are. Even allowing for how quickly I read, it's still quite a time commitment. So I've been, erm, reading. A lot. The blogging & the housework have been the ones to suffer, although as Claire so brilliantly pointed out in one book - if woman's work is never done, why rush to it?

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I'm almost starting to resent Claire & Jamie though. I miss having time that wasn't tied to a book. Thank heavens, I've only got the last one left... I should be back to my regular self shortly.

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Gotta go read. (I just came to the basement to grab the last book, and noticed my laptop sulking over here in the corner.)