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For some reason I am having trouble getting into any book lately. There have been many days in the last few weeks that I never even pick up a book. Of the last three that I started, one was just too stupid and the other two I had already read. I have started Joy in the Morning now by Betty Smith (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn) and although it is not grabbing me, at least it isn't stupid. I hate that that's the best thing I can say about a book.
Rita brought over a few yesterday. One of which she earmarked for Megan called Emily of New Moon by L.M. Montgomery. That was a TV show on CBC that I used to watch and I liked so I'm going to read that one next (before I give it to Megan).
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I am reading a really good one called Samaritan, but it is taking me forever. I hope to get a good chunk done today on my day off. I have not even started Sushi for Beginners so I can bring that one with my on Friday.
What a coincidence, I am reading A Tree Grows In Brooklyn right now. I didnt have anything, and Kathy had bought it for one of the girls. I had never read it before and am enjoying it very much.
Emily of the New Moon is part of a three part series--it's the bomb. I have a feeling that I already bought it for Megan years ago, but maybe not.
I read Good in Bed and now I'm reading In Her Shoes. Someone tell Megan I'm sorry for telling her that she shouldn't have a second dessert and that ice cream at midnight was not a good idea. I felt all this solidarity with the large and lovely reading Good in Bed and in the meantime I'm shrinking. I was lamenting that I don't have anything to wear at Christmas--too bad the only nice black slacks I have are too small--wait, go back, reverse, I'm smaller, so they're not too small and I have nice black slacks to wear for Christmas. How great is that. Just slightly less great than eating a whole bag of butter christmas cookies. Sigh.
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