Today’s project was to enjoy the incredibly wonderful weather we’re having at the moment and start sorting the garden out. I spent an incredibly pleasant day pottering around with my iPod in, planting the potatoes, digging in new bedding plants and sanding the garden table. Despite us being Proper Grown Ups, we neglected to take any care of the garden furniture over the winter. Actually, that’s not quite true. We brought the chairs in and put them in the loft but left the table outside. With all the frost and snow and ice and general wintry unpleasantness, the varnish on the top of the table had gone all bubbly and cracked. So I tackled it with the sander (power tools!), and then went over it again by hand. It actually looks pretty good now, but I’ll need to get some more varnish to make sure it matches the chairs.
Whilst I was working, I finished listening to my current audiobook – House Rules by Jodie Picoult. I’ve read all her books now, and get less impressed with each one. My Sister’s Keeper is pretty good as is The Pact and Plain Truth. But recently? All her characters seem the same. There’s always a beleaguered mother fighting the system, a kid with some kind of weird disease, a sibling who acts out against being ignored, a hapless lawyer and some authoritative male figure. The plot always finishes with a court case and some kind of twist. In this case, the “twist” could be seen coming from so far off, I thought there had to be something else to come. Not only that, but when the twist was revealed, the book finished. Immediately. There was no exploration of the reactions by the other characters, and no real conclusion. It’s frustrating when this happens with an author (don’t get me started on Stephen King’s latest – The Dome. Essentially The Stand crossed with The Simpsons movie), I’m sure she worked on the novel, there’s certainly plenty evidence of research, but I’ve bought it now. It’s not like I’d be allowed to take it back and say “Actually, this was rubbish”. Guess I just have to vote with my feet and not buy the next one. Trouble is, I’ll see it for £3.50 in Tesco and pick it up anyway and be back here in six months bitching about the next one.
Wow! With that rant, I’d almost forgotten about the recurring trauma. Maybe if I lose my job, I could become some kind of book-reviewing type. *drifts into reverie where I get free books and am paid to be mean about them on the radio*