Yesterday when my husband came home, I told him I finally finished the book. He asked me how it was. I was a little puzzled, but then I told him the truth: there was hardly a plot, but there was a certain depth in the main character. Easy to read.
Why did it take you so many weeks then, he asked. At that point I had to admit I wasn't talking about my Christmas present, Kiran Desai's The Inheritance of Loss.
I explained it was this book I had been making all over our dining table and living room and downstairs in our "Hobby Hall" where my sewing machine and his fly-tying bench are. He looked rather pleased, because he obviously thought it ment clearing the table at least.
But he didn't know I just only started the other book with more pages ;)
Kiran Desai will be ready after 90 pages.
Today was the first day for the sun to rise before eight o'clock. The day is nearly three and a half hours longer now than it was just before Christmas. It is a promise there will be spring and summer too. That is the theme of my other book as well.