bookish

 I'm reading 'Bridge of Sighs' by Richard Russo. I'm half way done and blown apart by it.  It has drawn me in completely; the characters are now inside of me. I feel heavier and lower to the earth for carrying them.  I bought it at the Salt Lake airport about 2 weeks ago, coming back from Florida at Christmas, it's longish and I love taking my time with a book I love because I don't want it to end.  I always think back to Timothy Fuller (?) in fourth grade, his face appearing over my big hardback Jane Eyre and calling me back - but rightly calling me by her name, because that is who I had become, Jane Eyre!  Jane Eyre!  Jane Eyre!  He didn't register until the 3rd time. 

There's no way to describe how grateful I am when I stumble on such a book.

It is Sunday though.  If I read all day, and inhibit other lives', tonight I'll feel anxious and lost and have to regroup for Monday work.

I need air and people I think.  Cheer for the Eagles at my sister's sounds about right.