Autumn

Not much to report from the Madsen home this weekend other than this is a house of sickness. Oy. My cold is not going away as quickly as I'd like and Steve is fighting it now, too, though I don't think it's hit him as hard, thank goodness, at least he doesn't have my neverending cough. I went to the clinic yesterday because I've developed thrush (I'm susceptible unfortunately) and had to get medicine to combat that (the most disgusting concoction ever invented). So that's us. It's kinda nice out so I've got some windows open to air out the house. What we've got is not H1N1, just a bronchial cold.

I still haven't figured out what book mood I'm in so I'm not reading anything but I did watch one of my beloved miniseries on DVD -- Ivanho. Ahhhh, Anthony Andrews in the 80s -- and I'm not really into blonds. My template for good looking guys are tall dark and handsome. But Anthony Andrews in the 80s was just pretty -- Ivanho, The Scarlet Pimpernel, Brideshead Revisited, Sparkling Cyanide. And did you know, I'll bet you didn't, that he was asked to be Remington Steele but turned down the role leaving it open for Pierce Brosnan. Ivanho is one of my favorite stories; the DVD seems to be three movies in one: Andrews is in a romance and is basically recovering from wounds for most of the miniseries so he's laying around and wincing a lot but looking noble and brave as he loves Rowena but is hero to Rebecca, James Mason and Olivia Hussey are in a serious movie, everyone else is in a light comedy.

Yesterday was a really windy day; I watched at one point the neighbor's black cat chasing and pouncing on leaves as they skittered across their lawn which was rather amusing.

Have a good football, falling leaves Sunday ...

Much love,

PK the Bookeemonster