Three Birds with One Stone

Number one reader and I went to Belleville and forked over sixty bucks to get a yearly library membership. As cool as our local library is, it is the size of a one room school house and stocks ONLY best selling commercial fiction. Kinda limiting when one is in the mood for something a little more cerebral.

So...anyway, after a quick perusal of the stands...fuggedabout cerebral, I ended up with the audio book of Outlander. Yes, I've read it before I admit - but Diana Gabaldon does a great job with description and has a knack for voices. I thought it might be useful to read (ie listen) to it again. Research for my own writing, see.

Besides, number one reader and I had a day trip planned and I took along my giant box of Outlander CD's to pass the time. It was fun and number one reader actually enjoyed the disappearance of Claire through the standing stones, her re-appearance two hundred years in the past, her adventures in Castle Leoch and even her forced marriage to Jamie Fraser.

But, he drew the line when Jamie and Claire's wedding night antics never seemed to end. "Ach, Sassenach," whispered Jamie, his breath warm upon my quivering cheek, "your wee fat bum is as tender as a fresh plum just asking to be pinched." My fingers traced the outline of his zygomatic arch, his eyes as deep and dark as Loch Ness on a winter's eve, his reddish gold mane as thick and proud as a lion's after a successful hunt.'  or something like that...

On and on and on and on it went and I could tell number one reader was reaching his limit. But it was the whispered "Shall I service thee again, Lass?" that tipped him over the edge. I turned it OFF before we crashed in the ditch.

But, later that night, as I stood all aquiver admiring his zygomatic arch (at least I think that was his zygomatic arch) he was ensconced in front of the computer muttering bitterly to himself. He was writing an email, a task that with his two fingered typing technique usually requires at least an hour of angry tapping. "Ach," I said, batting my eyes in an entrancing fashion, "would you say my bum is like a fresh peach?"

"Hmmmhmmm?" he said, not looking up.

And that is how I found myself killing two birds with one stone. It's funny how walking on the treadmill becomes a lot less boring with the indefatigable Jamie Fraser playing the golden red stag to Claire Beauchamp's coquettish doe over hill and dale, up one crag and down another, on the heather, in warm ponds, on chilly rock outcroppings, under flea riddled quilts, in front of 20 highland raiders, inside deserted crofts, under the wide Scottish sky.... fat bums flashing, muscular thighs pumping....

Weel, you get the idea.

 On second thought, it might be more accurate to say I killed three birds with one stone....