Jane Austen or the Superbowl: No Contest
Since when is Superbowl a holiday? I foolishly attempted to purchase guacamole today and could find none on the shelves at several stores. When I inquired about it, I was told: hey lady, it's Superbowl Sunday!
Here are all the facts you needed to know about the Superbowl: a) one of the teams was from Arizonia; b) the Patron Saint of New Jersey was playing at halftime and c) Masterpiece Theater was re-running some of the Jane Austen series from this past spring. Now what would you choose?
I chose none of the above because I was consumed with a completely engrossing and thoroughly satisfying monster of a project, which I cast on earlier this weekend in the few minutes I wasn't reading Inside the Victorian Home. I don't have any pictures of it yet, because digital cameras weren't invented in in Victorian times,but here are someone else's pictures.
I did happen to turn on the TV at the exact moment when Springstein was swinging his guitar in the air, and I thought that was a pretty good trick for a old guy. My delight in it was tamed by my concern that his lead guitarist was now the old Italian widow from around the corner.