Sunday Post: February 6, 2022

Hello, my lovelies.

Not a whole lot happened this week…the lovely roomie and I had some serious baking plans which were derailed when her dad ended up in the hospital with a fairly serious MRSA infection. He’s mending, and is now resting comfortably at home, but the whole week just felt off, as she ran herself ragged looking after him, and I sat, frustrated that I can’t do more except play the supportive spouse. But, all signs are that he’s in the home stretch. Fingers-crossed.

I did make that breakfast casserole that’s making the rounds on TikTok, and it was delish—but I was out of milk the first time I made it, so I used heavy cream…and now I’m kind of locked in, because I’m afraid that it won’t be nearly as good with 2%.

I have had three or four people, whose opinions I generally trust, tell me that I should watch Reacher.

I don’t know. I mean, the actor is certainly way closer to the physical ideal than Tom Cruise was. Like 8 inches closer (although Alan Ritchson is not any taller than Jim Caviezel, who was always MY pick. Just saying). But I watched the trailer, and he seems…funny. Flip? Smart-alecky? And I don’t think of Jack having a sense of humor.

Still waffling.

I read five books this week—

By Any Other Name was an adorable confection, wherein an editor is assigned to a reclusive author (whose books she adores), only to find that the author is NOTHING like she thought. Here For It involves two people who meet online and have MAD chemistry, but have issues translating that chemistry to an irl relationship. It was good, but, frankly, with all the communication issues they had, I would have given up. The Hate Project follows frenemies Oscar and Jack as they combine to clear out Frank’s Grandmother’s house, navigating a nascent friends-with-benefits situation as they go…and ending up closer than they intended. It Happened One Summer is a high-concept homage (or ripoff, your call) of Schitt’s Creek. Pretty, spoiled rich girl is banished to the small fishing village where her mother grew up, and has to take over the dilapidated bar she didn’t know she owned. I mean, it writes itself.

All four of these books were as expected, none of them surprised me, really, and none of them will likely stick with me long-term. But they all served their temporal purpose, which was to distract me for a day. By Any Other Name was the best of them, and Here For It the worst, but they all hover in that 2.5-3.5 star range.

Find Me was amazing, and will probably get a review next week, so nothing much to say except that Alafair continues to reinforce my belief that she’s a better writer than her dad.

I know. He won a couple Edgars. I still said what I said.

OK, that’s all from the Olympic Village where I await a quadruple axel with as much patience as I capable of.

Till next week, stay safe, watch some curling, hug someone you love, and maybe make a new recipe!