Forgot to mention.... The book club I started with so much passion and hope performed a coup d'etat and I seem to be a casualty. I had to miss November book club; that's when it started. We'd all agreed to read Eliot's Middlemarch. Because it was a large undertaking, we decided to skip book club in December and discuss Middlemarch in January. But certain members of bookclub (now called Book Babes under the new regime) scheduled a meeting in December when I was in Florida. Rhonda also was out of town. So, at that meeting they decided on another "mission" and chose other books to read. I'm still licking my wounds. (Thank God for Roxy, my dog. She's licking them with me. "People, let me tell ya about my best friend...") The ironic -- or, more accurately, aggravating -- thing, is that we'd had a candid discussion about format and book choice just a month or so before. But I guess no one had the balls to tell me what they really thought. "Balls, balls," cried the queen. "If I had two, I'd be king."
Speaking of queens, I aced my paper on Elizabeth and aced 16th century lit. A silver lining to every cloud. God is good.
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