Carrie Leigh (carrie_leigh) wrote,
Carrie Leigh

Fall is here!

I love how all of a sudden in the middle of October the trees are a riot of color.  How even the Elms in our neighborhood are a gorgeous shade of yellow, and the Sweetgum tree in our front yard is turning maroon.  I love fall!  And it's cold, today, as well.  48 F.  Perfect.  Fall is wonderful.

(With the exception, of course, of the evil squirrel colony that lives in the enormous pecan tree in the backyard and throws their half eaten pecan hulls at my head.)  

They DO.  I'm not paranoid.  Much.

Hubby has taken sweet Aaron (aged 4) to work with him today.  He had to go on a road trip out of town, and they'll be back this evening.  So until I pick up my first grader...  I am blissfully alone.  It's sooooo nice.  Going to spend the morning working *coughs- not reading FF-coughs*
and then go and do some shopping in the afternoon.  I have to get a microphone for my computer, because I think I'm reading a story for the D& podcast that's coming up.  Can't tell you how fun I think that is.

So I 'm reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone to Ethan and Aaron at bedtime, a half chapter...  chapter at a time, complete with different voices for the characters, Standard British dialect for the dialogue, my own Standard American for the narrative.  Yesterday I felt kind of yucky, aches, sore throat, blah, blah, and really didn't feel like reading because my throat hurt and I'm a baby.  So  good father Hubby offered to do it.  He settles in to read to the boys, I'm in the other room, and all of a sudden I hear, "MOM!  HE'S NOT DOING IT RIGHT!'  I walk in the room and Ethan (6) is very patiently explaining to hubby that he isn't pronouncing the words correctly, and proceeds to tell my husband the proper pronunciation for "Potter",  "Dursley", and "Hogwarts", all in a very sweet, six year old Standard British Dialect . 
*swoons with pride for son's talent*  
My husband is so sweet...  he has the same degree that I do, BFA in theatre arts..  but couldn't ever overcome his West Texas twang.  I've tried to teach him -  to no avail.  So last night, instead of a chapter of HP, he read them Hank the Cowdog...  which he is perfectly suited to.  Anything with dialects and voices falls to me.  And that, I think, I can live with.=D

Oh, and I read THE END (incidentally, the name of one of my own one-act plays - damn you, Lemony Snicket, if that is your REAL name),  the last of A Series of Unfortunate Events...  gotta say...  disappointed.  No more enlightened than I was before I read it.  Perhaps I read too fast and didn't get it all...  that happens sometimes, but all in all, I was VERY dissatisfied.  I'm reading Libba Bray's A Great and Terrible Beauty on the recommendation of one of my students.  It promises to be better.

Have a lovely day, all!

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