Started re-reading Best Friends at lunch, pen and pad at hand -- felt so much better that way. I think it's the only way to read books and I ought to read every thing that way. Also read the Free-Times, which had my own shortened version of my Byron review; I think the editor played with it a bit but it would probably be too depressing to match the two.
Every now and then I find myself morbidly attracted to the Crosby, Still and Nash song "Our House." I think it falls under the "corny but great" category -- very "cozy," to quote the song, but it carries a bold whiff of romantic hippie idealism, and at least one ever so slightly artistic line:
Such a cozy room, the windows are illuminated
By the evening sunshine through them,
Fiery gems for you, only for you.
Okay maybe it's only artistic by pop standards. The "fiery gems" phrase is a nice little detail, a nice little glittering gem woven into the homey tapestry.