Well I have a horrid headache but I am feeling better than I was. I was able to eat toast. Yay toast! It feels like it should be way later than it is and I'm going to go crawl into bed soon so I can work tomorrow since I can actually can work because I have my work laptop back from the mother-ship. Disease-free! yay!

So I'll leave you with a snippet from The Love Season by Elin Hilderbrand. This will warm the heart of the multi-book readers out there.
The people of Nantucket wondered - oh yes, she knew they wondered - what Marguerite did all day, hermited in her house on Quince Street, secreted away from the eyes of the curious. Although there was always something - the laundry, the garden, the articles from the newspaper in Calgary (the deadline every other Friday) - the answer was: reading. Marguerite had three books going at any one time. That was the chef in her, the proverbial more-than-one-pot-on-the-stove. She read contemporary fiction in the mornings, though she was very picky. She liked Philip Roth, Penelope Lively, as a rule no one under the age of 50, for what could the possibly have to say about the world that Marguerite hadn't already learned? In the afternoons, she enriched herself with biographies or books of European history, if they weren't too dense. Her evenings were reserved for the classics, and when the phone rang the night before Marguerite had been reading Hemingway. Hemingway was the perfect choice for late at night because his sentences were clear and easy to understand, though Marguerite stopped every few pages and asked herself, Is that all he means? Might he mean something else?

It's fair to warn you this isn't a book about reading. But how can I not like a character that loves food and books? She's my kind of person. If you are good girls and boys maybe I'll share what she thinks about drinking champagne straight through a meal...