Today is a filthy, rainy day. My backyard is a bog, the creek behind the house is running muddy and at the tops of its banks, and the mail we inadvertantly left in the mailbox yesterday was sodden this morning. Tennis and soccer for today have already been cancelled. But as complicated as the rain can make my life with rescheduled activities and the impossibility of mowing the lawn before it gets high enough to swallow a small child, sometimes it's not bad to wake up to a grey, rainy day. Not as if I have ever needed an excuse to putz around with my books, but this is a ready made one if there ever was. I can sit down and finish one of the many books I have bookmarks in the middle of right now, I can write a review or two or three, I can rearrange my shelves now that the kids' toys have been thinned out and made more room for my books, I can tidy up the mess we made going through books to donate, I can actually shelve the books sitting on the floor in stacks. There's just so many rainy day book activities to choose from, it almost makes me giddy and I don't know where to start.
I have had a rather busy non-book week but have still managed to escape into my stories some of the time. This week my book travels took me into a blended family grappling with a terrible loss and the unexpected life changes that loss causes, to a summer home on a rocky point in Massachusetts as the times change it and the extended family to whom it belongs, and to Bali with a woman wrestling with being a survivor of the 2002 nightclub bombings there. Where did your bookish travels take you?
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