🐱This groundhog does not do ‘tricks’ like show you a season out of his shadow, but if he wants to, he will, and then he will take your treat after.
Today, I gave 4 books away because I’d wanted to 😊💕📚. It was not great though overall: windy, cold, and the wind kept blowing my hair out of its silver pin, but I just placed it up again, and it was very helpful that way. The bus was quicker to arrive with the new app, but to go back it was a little while of a wait, yet this exact trip would probably do best another weather (☀️ was great tho); I am ready to lounge, and so I’d say it was great walking too.
As I’d walked around, I found out that the town was gifted the spot in 1817? 1868? (maybe), and that the town itself was founded in 1775, which is also the year of recently read author Jane Austen’s birth (a ways away in England). My husband suggested me not to lift my hand when crossing the street because someone might think I’m calling to them. Don’t worry I am just crossing the street not gonna holla atcha. 😊
My painting “Sun Shower” ☀️💧has been lightly varnished and will be fully dry in 24 hrs.
I am reading 📙Ghost Hawk by Susan Cooper, a new book I’d found awhile ago at a library spot. So far, I really like it.
I had also begun a little drawing this week of the ocean shore from my memory inspired by the song Servant of Love by Patty Griffin. I am looking forward to my nature book for leaves, flowers, tree bits, etc., 🍃🍁🌺🍀🍂 so let’s hope the groundhog says spring…
…The Groundhog predicts ‘winter;’ Peeko might predict ‘spring.’ The Groundhog test is known to be for fun and unscientific, but this cat is a scholar. 😊💕🐱
🤫…I found something I wanted (for my nature book) 😊😊to be ready pressed in a month, but some sources suggest ready in just 2 weeks, so I will check it then to see if it needs more time. 📚
No more single to read spot; it is more intuitive, with new poetry books that’s already in my mind to read at a certain time (think holidays), and any new fiction novels I may want a nudge of reminder…or a subtle new but not for now.
Wait! Virginia Woolf just had a birthday—Happy Birthday, Virginia, Jan. 25th, your 141st!
An article you may like: Jane Austen by Virginia Woolf (1925).
…The child who formed her sentences so finely when she was fifteen never ceased to form them, and never wrote for the Prince Regent or his Librarian, but for the world at large. She knew exactly what her powers were, and what material they were fitted to deal with as material should be dealt with by a writer whose standard of finality was high. There were impressions that lay outside her province; emotions that by no stretch or artifice could be properly coated and covered by her own resources. For example, she could not make a girl talk enthusiastically of banners and chapels. She could not throw herself whole-heartedly into a romantic moment. She had all sorts of devices for evading scenes of passion. Nature and its beauties she approached in a sidelong way of her own. She describes a beautiful night without once mentioning the moon. Nevertheless, as we read the few formal phrases about “the brilliancy of an unclouded night and the contrast of the deep shade of the woods”, the night is at once as “solemn, and soothing, and lovely” as she tells us, quite simply, that it was.
The balance of her gifts was singularly perfect.
…But now, in 1817, she was ready. Outwardly, too, in her circumstances, a change was imminent. Her fame had grown very slowly. “I doubt “, wrote Mr. Austen Leigh, “whether it would be possible to mention any other author of note whose personal obscurity was so complete.” Had she lived a few more years only, all that would have been altered. She would have stayed in London, dined out, lunched out, met famous people, made new friends, read, travelled, and carried back to the quiet country cottage a hoard of observations to feast upon at leisure.by Virginia Woolf on Jane Austen