Fidgety.

And bored. Fidgety and bored. It happens regularly this time of year. I would just console myself with the thought of another semester starting but, for me, that is not happening. So my brain is restless, and nowhere was that more evident than in church this past Sunday. I normally pay attention, take notes, and I was doing that, but the hair distracted me. It did not move. It was completely hair sprayed into place. After watching this phenomenon for a while I turned my attention to the other hair styles in the room, noting those that were obviously hair spray-plastered and those that were allowed to move freely. I definitely appreciate the free-moving ones; the other ones are rather scary. Wasn't that fascinating? Elucidating?

I did think of expanding my culinary abilities. So far I have made macaroni and cheese (not from a box!), reduced-calorie macaroni and cheese (once I figured out how many calories were in regular macaroni and cheese), Irish Soda Bread, Bread Machine breads and tonight I'll be trying a new chicken recipe. That only takes up so much time, however. So I decided I would grow herbs in my kitchen. I don't particularly like herbs, but it would be a learning experience and would expand the brain parameters. I haven't begun yet; this is a rather new resolution.

I also got the ambitious bug and began adding non-fiction books to my Nook wish list. After doing that it occurred to me that I have a slew of books I have bought but haven't read/finished, like Barbara Mertz's "Temples, Tombs & Hieroglyphs", and "Our Lincoln" by Eric Foner (edited by him, rather), and other ones I'm too lazy to get up to check the titles of. I might also resume my forays into classical literature. My mother made sure I had a good grounding; I've read Austen, Bronte, Chaucer, de Cervantes, Dickens, Dumas, Hawthorne, Homer, Melville, Poe, Shakespeare, Shelley (adored "Frankenstein"!) Sophocles, Swift, Stevenson, Tolstoy, Twain and Voltaire (among others). I haven't read Steinbeck or Faulkner, though, and I didn't read "Moby Dick" (I read "Bartleby the Scrivener"). Neither have I read Dostoyevsky; I've tried but was defeated. A long ways to go, then, to round off my adventures in literature.

And now I'm off to decide which non-fiction book I will start (or finish) first. This might be somewhat distracting; I bought each book in a spasm of delight because it was simply amazing! I love the subject matter! etc. Never, ever let me loose in the history section of any bookstore. It's bad.