Yesterday I spent the day in front of the fire, reading.
Every year, I take the week between Christmas and New Year’s off, and I rest and I read and I rest and I read some more.
Some years I re-read all of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books, some years I re-read Rosamunde Pilcher, this year, I am re-reading Hemingway, all of his books, in chronological order. He is my favorite writer, at least in style–I wouldn’t say that any of his books are my favorite book.
I love the way he says so much using the least possible amount of words.
And so I am here, reading. It is cold outside, blustery and snowy and very much winter. A perfect day to stay inside in my pajamas and read. I may go for a walk later, I may not. I should, I need to walk off some of those cookies.
But instead, I may just sit here, drinking tea and soaking in the warmth of these flames, reading The Sun Also Rises.
Because it does, you know.
And tomorrow will be another day.
Just now, I plan to savor this one.
TrackBack URL for this entry: