"If you meet the Buddha in the lane, feed him the ball." *

I wandered around the disappointing new-ish Borders the other night – you think I’d learn, I NEVER find anything I want there. And it has all the charm of an inner-city basketball court – cement, steel, the only thing missing are those little spiky barbed-wire thingeys on top of the chainlink. Let's not even mention the surly baristas.

I did spend some time hunkered in front of the graphic novels section, speedreading through Neil Gaiman’s The Last Temptation. Gaiman may be a genius, but he clearly phoned that one in. Hey, we all do it occasionally.

So instead of Borders, I spent the next afternoon at my beloved B&N. I bought a paperback , illustrated copy of Stardust, and the newest Titanic book for Seg’s Christmas haul. I wanted to buy a copy of Marvel 1602 but neither store had one in stock. I will get it from the library instead.

Speaking of, H went out yesterday afternoon to run some errands – wine store, post office, the library – because he COULD, what with me not being at work and all - and he picked up my holds for me.

The Nubian Prince - Juan Bonilla
The Lightning Thief - Rick Riordan
Farthing - Jo Walton

I spent some of yesterday reading Messenger of Truth, the latest Maisie Dobbs. Have I discussed this with you all before? I really enjoy Maisie, but I cannot sit down and read one of the books for more than an hour at a clip. It’s not that they are boring - I always return to the current installment eager to see what happens next, but I can’t get lost in them. Is this a fatal flaw, or should I just be grateful I enjoy them in the end?

So H took himself off to his wine-tasting club last night, I hunkered down in bed with tea, a box of Kleenex, and The Street of a Thousand Blossoms, which true to My Favorite Librarian’s word, sucked me right in.

I was ready to sleep about ten, but needed something to sooth me a bit, so read the first few chapters of Karen Cushman’s The Midwife’s Apprentice. It is so completely different from the other two I have read - Catherine Called Birdy and Matilda Bone - that it sort of threw me for a loop and I read almost half of it. It’s not as personable, the main character not as engaging, as the others. Which doesn’t mean I don’t like it, or Beetle, the protagonist. It’s just not as cozy and lighthearted and amusing; it’s grittier, and more real, somehow. I am not explaining this very well. You could just go read it, it’ll take you all of an hour.

Anyway, I finally went to bed at eleven and when I woke up this morning to H making the boys pancakes downstairs, I rolled right over, snuggled back under the comforter, and finished off the last twenty pages of The Haunting of Hill House. It was one of those books which made me wish for a writers’ sealed envelope at the back (like The Eleventh Hour), explaining and revealing all the secrets. Because I *think * I know what it was all about, but I also am sure I must have missed something. Those of you who have said the same, please email me and help me out. I won’t say anymore here, as I don’t want to ruin it for anyone who hasn’t read it, but I am thoroughly perplexed.

I know this post will make at least Badger’s brain hurt – three books at once! But I will finish Midwife’s Apprentice today, so then it’ll only be two, and that’s way more manageable, yes, Badge?

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*Phil Jackson