Hello, nothing!

This is one of those nights when I feel I should blog but don't have much significant to say except I did this, and then I did that--and who really cares but me? Except that I did have lunch Friday with an old and dear friend I only see ever two or three years since she's moved to Atlanta. Her husband was supposed to come too, but he had a bad case of stomach something, so Subie and I had a girls lunch--and chatted about kids, grandkids, jobs, politics, the whole gamut. Really fun--a two-hour lunch!
Last night Master Jacob spent the night, but he was quite solemn all evening, mostly watched a DVD called "Happy Feet," so I sat at the table and read. His favorite things now are three tiny cars he carries everywhere with him. He went to bed happily enough, but for almost an hour I could hear the clank of those cars on the monitor. He woke about 5:30 this morning, and I could tell the sounds were fussing, not happy. After ten minutes or so, I went in, told him he was all right, I loved him, and gave him his cars--he slept until 7:45, thank goodness, and this morning he was his usual happy self. We had a giggling battle trying to get his clothes on--he would not stay still and kept kicking out of his pants. By the time he was finally dressed, it looked like a blind woman had done it--or he had dressed himself. By the time I got him fed and dressed, cleaned up his toys, went to the grocery, did the laundry and emptied the garbarge, I surely needed my nap.
I read a so-so mystery most of the evening, but late last evening I started the newest Julia Spencer-Fleming novel, I Shall Not Care. I probably won't do much else all weekend. She has created two believable, intriguing characters--with plenty of flaws but a lot to like about them. And the thing that draws you in is she keeps the romantic tension between them going--they just don't walk off into the sunset together. She's an Episcopalian priest, and in the early books he's the married (unhappily) chief of police. The attraction is mutual and strong but neither one acts on it because of a sense of honor--and then his wife is killed, while he's in a standoff with a criminal that the priest, Claire, kills to save his life. As this book opens, he refuses to see Claire or think about her, feeling guilty that if he hadn't been with her he could have saved his wife--but hey, if he hadn't been with her, he would have died. The human emotions are real, and I'm rethinking (for the 40th time!) my second mystery.
My neighbors' parents were supposed to come for wine tonight--they're babysitting while she's away on business, and I had bought some small smoked salmon spirals--those things I looked at in the store and wondered who would every be so silly to buy them. They got home too late from one of the children's soccer games, so I ate the salmon spirals myself for supper--so good, but so rich. I didn't eat them all.