Anglophile

I present to you the Norton Critical Edition of Pride and Predjudice, which I am enjoying. The overindulgence of punctuation alone shows exactly how it should be read and enjoyed aloud.

I am also enjoying some P. G. Wodehouse. Our next child shall be named Gussie Fink-Nottle. Or Bertie. (Yes, our fictional little Basil is still in reform school for as long as they can endure him.)

Steven has bestowed his ipod nano on me. I am confused by it, having spent almost a whole year with my beloved (though screen-less) shuffle. This nano seems rather more large, fragile and less likely to find happiness in my unironed shirt pocket.

My flu or severe cold seems to have passed (Steven caught it as well). When sick I cannot even bear to think about food, so lost a bit of weight without really thinking about it. Unfortunately, when I sneeze (I am always sneezing, cold or no) my pants slip dangerously downwards. Must find a belt.

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