mythicalgirl | When It Rains It Pours

Wicked storms here yesterday. I was nervous on the way home last night, wondering what I would find. The house, though, seems to be in good shape - no evidence of roof leaks, no damage to windows or siding. I did have a small tree that gave up the ghost. The poor thing has been half dead since I bought the place and I just recently got around to pruning it back to living plant. Yesterday I lost the rest of the old growth to the wind and excessive rain. The new growth close to the ground made it through the storm though so I have hope for the little tree's future.

After cleaning up the debris I finished Saturn's Children by Charles Stross. As mentioned in a previous post I was a little unsure in the first 100 pages - it was good but it wasn't grabbing me, you know? Well, somewhere around 150 pages in it finally grabbed me. I had a really hard time putting it down Monday evening and last night I picked it back up as soon as I could and finished it. Once the action got going it was great...it just took a little while to get there. In the end I really ended up liking Freya. This actually kind of surprised me as there are several points in the book where she is too stupid to live. No, I didn't throw the book at the wall. I kind of think she was written that way on purpose as it was brought up by other characters several times. A brain trust she is not.
So, a good book. A very enjoyable read. And it still has me thinking about concepts like freedom and what it means to be an individual.

I'm not sure what the next book will be. Maybe Jay Lake's Green or a biography of Henry VIII? It will probably depend on what I'm in the mood for when I get home tonight.

The garden is nearly done. I was able to get another handful of beans but I'm thinking the storm yesterday may have finished off that plant. The tomato is looking a little worse for wear as well. Plus I have a thief that keeps stealing not only the ripe (or almost ripe) tomatoes but the green ones as well. Silly squirrel seems to think they belong to him!

Work is work and the less said about that the better.