Bus Stop Harry Potter Chats
Feb. 28th, 2016 05:36 pmOh man, oh man. The other day, as I was waiting for a bus downtown:
Two middle-aged-ish women – friends, who'd apparently just run into each other while waiting for a bus – discussing Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, and what kind of story it might turn out to be, and the related matter of the 19-years-later epilogue at the end of Deathly Hallows, and how a lot of people hated the epilogue but they both actually really liked it. It was a such a sweet conversation, and an unexpected one to randomly hear at a bus stop. I had to turn away, so they wouldn't see my desperately delighted grinning.
Now I'm housesitting for the weekend in The Most Wonderful Little Village, looking after a friend's cats. Alternating my time between leisurely rambles through countryside on the cusp between winter and spring, and lying in front of the woodstove with a book in hand and the three cats taking turns being the one to drape themselves over my stomach and/or head.
As I write this, one of the three, who happens to be one of my favorite cats in the whole world, has taken up position on my chest, cuddled up under my chin, purring like a fiend.
It doesn't get much better than this.
Two middle-aged-ish women – friends, who'd apparently just run into each other while waiting for a bus – discussing Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, and what kind of story it might turn out to be, and the related matter of the 19-years-later epilogue at the end of Deathly Hallows, and how a lot of people hated the epilogue but they both actually really liked it. It was a such a sweet conversation, and an unexpected one to randomly hear at a bus stop. I had to turn away, so they wouldn't see my desperately delighted grinning.
Now I'm housesitting for the weekend in The Most Wonderful Little Village, looking after a friend's cats. Alternating my time between leisurely rambles through countryside on the cusp between winter and spring, and lying in front of the woodstove with a book in hand and the three cats taking turns being the one to drape themselves over my stomach and/or head.
As I write this, one of the three, who happens to be one of my favorite cats in the whole world, has taken up position on my chest, cuddled up under my chin, purring like a fiend.
It doesn't get much better than this.