It has been a slow weekend.
I got some painting done; including finishing off the canvas I started five weeks ago (or is it more? it must be more.), I started spring-cleaning my balcony (all the dead leaves are bagged and the roses unwrapped from their winter covers and tied up to the wall), and I gave my cat a bath which he needed. He was not too happy with the actual shower since I insisted on washing both his tail and his skull; but afterwards when he was dry he was extremely happy and pleased with me (way more than usual, which is saying something). I think he likes feeling clean and fluffy - and alot of winter fur is gone now.
It was a perfect day for working on the balcony - yesterday when I started the sun was shining and it quickly got too hot out there - I remember being half-awake around dawn and making a fervent wish for overcast and rain today, and I got it. The sun didn't come out till rather late in the afternoon. Perfect day for gardening!
Saturday I read a book called the Name of the Wind by one Patrick Rothfuss - I received it as a gift some weeks back. I was rather caught up in the book (to my surprise - but in all honesty it was more due to some sympathy with Kvothe* than anything else) and read all of it during saturday, however - about halfway into the brick of a book I realised that it was the first in what was most likely (and now confirmed) a trilogy. Bah. There was enough of it already - there are lots that could have been edited out. Patrick, you need a harsher editor - sorry. There really wasn't enough happening to merit almost 600 pages. Cut it to half and it'd be a good length (with alot of unecessary parts gone) - and you could put all three books into one thick one that way.
*Surprisingly enough, since he is the closest thing to a badly concealed Gary-Sue I've encountered lately.