raining on Sunday

a rainy, grey Sunday afternoon.  i've already done lots of laundry, cleaned the house, and gone out shopping at Reading Terminal.  

the only things left to do are to crawl back onto my bed, start a new book (which came highly recommended from both T and Tay [yes, they're real people even if they don't sound like they are]), and spend the afternoon in silence.

you probably can't see him, save for his fur poking out, but Mr. Finch is lazing with me, in his favorite prison cell of a laundry basket.