The days are full of brush whacking ... trying to do as much as possible before the tree-cutting crew arrives next Monday with the ultimate wood chipper. And the making of presents ... some of which will not be done by the 25th, but then again there are twelve days to Christmas, right?
Still, there is always time to read ... sometimes no more than a page as I fall into a luxurious, physically-tired sleep, other times hours-long immersions when I simply can't put the book down. Two recent blog posts led to particularly good reads ...
"It was slow going. The bouclé needed to be quilted to the silk with the smallest of stitches, in tiny, straight rows, one inch apart ... there was no way to explain it --it went against reason-- but each minute stitch provided not only structure and support but an incredible softness." (p.145-146)
"Every fabric has a voice ... [and] those who warp and weave and darn; it's the song of their lives, too." (p.204)
Then there was Julie Stockler's post about Alzheimer's as "the thing you fear" and her very good recommendation of Still Alice. It read as truth (although the chapters would be more realistic presented as years rather than months) and yes, "It's about love."