Excuse the vanity shot. Sometimes I wonder, Aren't I too old to pose in the front of the mirror with disheveled hair and way more make-up than I ever wear in real life? But then a photo turns out like Anne of Cleves (you know, the queen who got engaged upon receipt of her portrait, and divorced upon receipt of her person ... or was it beheaded?). And my vain little bookish librarian self says, That was fun.
