To tell you the truth, it was the third or fourth Mom day in a row, not a time filled with big gulps of grief but more feeling her close by and missing her.
When I finished HP6, I pushed it back in its place on my pleasure-reading shelves then stood there looking at the titles, trying to figure out what I wanted to read next.
I was tired, a bit blue, and nothing seemed to fit my low mood. So I retreated to the bookshelves in my bedroom where I house my stash of classics.
And I reached for my ultimate comfort food, a Jane Austen. This time, it was Pride and Prejudice. I chose it, I think, because Jay found this story about Jane's soaring popularity in the Wall Street Journal and this book, in particular, was the one the article mentioned.
I'm at the place where Elizabeth is visiting her friend Charlotte Lucas (now Collins) and Mr. Darcy has showed up for the express purpose (though Elizabeth doesn't know it yet) of proposing to her. (Did you know that Darcy's first name is Fitzwilliam? Can you imagine naming your child that?)
As I sit here at the birth of the New Year (which starts just after 6:30 this evening when the sun's rays hit the Tropic of Capricorn directly, the cosmic moment of the Solstice), I realize how much I enjoy the pleasure of reading without rushing and creating without a deadline breathing down my neck.
A moment of peace at the still point of the world's turning.
Happy Solstice to you all.
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