"When the first-rate author wants an exquisite heroine or a lovely morning, he finds that all the superlatives have been worn shoddy by his inferiors. It should be a rule that bad writers must start with plain heroines and ordinary mornings, and, if they are able, work up to something better. "
F. Scott Fitzgerald

The clouds are all over today, in grey clumps with bursts of sun between them. Right now, the sky outside my window is dark. I'm in green and brown, which feels autumny because I can see outside green bits of grass growing up through the fallen leaves, green mint still growing in the cold air, and brown, brown earth below it all. I've realized that I love making-up my eyes again - like an artist - with colors and with black kohl. Today I made my eyes and my home a new work of art. My eyes are black-lined, with soft grey and white and earthy greens; my house is all adjusted for the colder months when we live in the warm front rooms. I've changed it all around so that the table is in the yellow room and the couch in the blue, plants are at the windows and our desk is as well. We are very cozy now.

I recently bought filo dough again and tonight I've used it. We're having spanikopita for dinner, with filo-chicken pie, fresh bread, and brie wrapped in filo with a layer of jam inside. I hope the chicken-pie comes out well, I made up the recipe because I couldn't find what I wanted. For dessert, muhallabia massawa - a cardamom pudding - rich, decadent, and ideal with coffee. We're having friends over for dinner, and I'm excited to show off my new arrangement.