the wee small hours of the morning

it's 12:30am.. everyone in the house is asleep except for me. I just finished an older movie called '84 Charing Cross Road' about somewhat of a love affair developed through letters that never came to much of anything besides a grand friendship. It's put me in something of a melancholy mood.
At times like these I can't help but think of a song from the 'sleepless in seattle' soundtrack
"when the sun is high in the afternoon sky you can always find something to do
but from dusk til dawn as the clock ticks on.. something happens to you
in the wee small hours of the morning, when the whole wide world is fast asleep
i lie awake and think about the void and never ever think of counting sheep"
I don't know what it is about being the last one awake. The world becomes a secret place known only to me, where I observe without being observed and my mind goes off on paths of its own design.

I also watched the 2nd episode of the new miniseries pbs is doing of Emma earlier (which is when Tom fell asleep, lol.. tho he usually appreciates the witty repartee of that era). It left me wanting more, especially as there is another episode yet to be aired so it ended it at quite an intriguing place. There wasn't much on tv that would satisfy, so I turned to Netflix instant offerings. The only thing really like it I came across was 'Persuasion' which I had just watched a few days ago, and so I went searching for something new, and found '84 Charing Cross Road'. I'm on a mission to watch all great old movies possible and am glad I took the time to watch this one. It's based on a true story that became a novel, so I may have to pick that up as well. The correspondence was between a woman in NYC and a gentleman in London. The woman always wanted to go to London and said once that she watched old English movies just to see the streets. I know how she felt.

I was lucky enough to have made it there once, however I fear the week I spent in London only added to my desire to be there again. Tom and I sometimes day dream about spending a year there. Just finding some job, renting out the house and going. I am fortunate that my husband shares my love of London. Growing up in Sunny Las Vegas has made him yearn for the foggy street of London, and I adore that about him. Maybe someday we'll do it. I keep thinking that if we're going to make it happen, we should just make it happen.. but it seems as though life always has different plans for us. Something's always happening, and moving to London for a year seems a bit silly in the face of everything else. However, we continue to dream, and what is life without dreams.

Well, I'm not sure who coherent this post will be.. but it's been cathartic to purge myself of my wee hours wonderings and maybe now I'll be able to sleep.

Here's a snapshot of Tom and I over in Jolly ol' england to cap it off. Cheers.