It's been a rough week, mostly because the little person wasn't keen on eating. On Friday evening when my dear husband asked, "What's our plan tonight?" I told him, "We're catching a plane to Jamaica."
Well, that might not be my fantasy destination if I thought about it for longer than two seconds. Interesting enough, I believe that women are inclined to make quite definite 'escape' plans in their imaginations. That's what I read in a British magazine, anyhow, and I quite like the idea of spending some thought on this. If I did, I'd be able to go to a different place in my mind for a little warmth and downtime. Ah well, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?? It seems so.
Magazines, especially upmarket British ones, are kind of my secret indulgence, although I only buy maybe three or four a year, and mostly when I'm traveling. But I've enjoyed those rags ever since my teenage days in London when my fellow boarders and I used to read Women's Own and the French version of Elle. Wow, how long ago that feels. A world away.
It's an interesting word, magazine. I'm sorry I don't have the etymology to hand. That's because I missed my chance to buy a second-hand Shorter Oxford English dictionary. Maybe I should look again.
The trouble today is that, with all those adverts, often a magazine's contents are closer to the French 'magazin' (i.e. shop, if you're not into the second official language). I'm okay with a few advertisements, but not so many that an issue ends up weighing as much as my carry on luggage. Hmm, I wonder what I should pack before taking off?
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