Maybe because I've been too busy to get to the library much this spring, or maybe because I've been sick too much, but I'm officially out of reading material. I have re-re read even my "comfort reads" too many times, read all the issues of the Atlantic that were piled up on my side of the bed and read all last weeks' newspapers pretty much front to back.
So despite the deluge I decided to wade through Harvard yard last night to the library instead of going straight home.
Despite almost getting hit my a ninja salmon biker on the way (grumble,grumble)
I managed to get there only slightly soaked. I gave up on the umbrella halfway there because it kept getting blown inside out.
I got a couple of new books, got home, and immediately dove in to Wolf Hall, the historic novel featuring Thomas Cromwell that was last year’s Booker winner. So far it’s fantastic, really elegant prose and some compelling characters.
There’s not much cozier than coming home soaking wet, changing into warm dry clothes and settling in with a good book, a dog on your lap and a glass of wine. Just think, if it wasn’t rainy, we couldn’t enjoy huddling warm and dry outside. (Thankfully, so far our basement remains dry!)