The day after I read The Orphan Master's Son, I watched two documentaries on North Korea and felt possessed by Kim Jong Il himself, a man who makes water boarding look like a splash in the kiddy pool. I've spent the weekend expunging his dark impact:
--I walked down to the Land of Oz and had a long look at the tulips and pansies.
--I danced through Anthropologie
--I went to the symphony where it was mostly a Tchaikovsky night. Ebullient music.
--I drank hot chocolate from my favorite teacup and saucer (Spode Blue Italian).
--I joined the choir for stake conference
--I shifted gears and read the last Maeve Binchy novel, which was badly edited, but I enjoyed grousing about the details.
--I bought fabulous flowers for the dining table
--I spent this afternoon with Peggy, who is teaching me to sew. She may be the calmest person I know. Everyone should have a Peggy in her life.