"To stake one's life for the truth--that is what we must do"

Today started off excitingly when Yeats generously offered to head downstairs first and make the coffee, then got distracted by fighting cats and forgot to put the pot under the percolator before hitting the start button. On the plus side, our kitchen floor is now sparkly-clean, and the house smells pleasantly of pumpkin spice coffee!

Last night while Yeats was writing, I discovered to my glee that "A Wrinkle in Time" was on Netflix, and sat down to watch it, glancing periodically at my copy of the book, which is in sidelong sightline of the sofa. And I have thoughts, some critical, some affectionate. ( Thoughts herein! )

It was not a bad movie, and I fully plan to watch it with my nieces and nephews once they're old enough. I just...I have loved A Wrinkle in Time devotedly since I first read it when I was ten. Every part of the story is embedded in my brain. No film will ever compare to the first time I saw Uriel in my mind's eye, or listened to Calvin quoting Shakespeare at Charles Wallace, or (with Meg) hugged her father for the first time in years.

Reading Log: Ring of Swords by Eleanor Arneson; The Governess Game by Tessa Dare; The Wild Girl by Kate Forsyth; Falls the Shadow by Stefanie Gaither; A Sterkarm Kiss by Susan Price