I’m making good progress in In This House of Brede
. I’m loving it as much as commenters said I would. And, yes, it is very hard to stick with a chapter a day. Especially when I’m greedy and gobble up my chapter before lunch time as I did this morning.
I’m a bookworm and can’t not be reading. So to make my slow reading possible I’m supplementing with several other books: By The Shores of Silver Lake
, Heaven: The Heart’s Deepest Longing
, The Napoleon of Notting Hill
, The Latin-Centered Curriculum
, and A Mother’s Rule of Life
. Also, I just received in the mail Captain Blood
, which I couldn’t help cracking open, and I just got a call from the library that a book I requested is in. Can’t remember what it is except that it’s one I ordered because I’d read a review of on someone’s blog.
So, I’m juggling just fine, thank you very much. And managing to keep myself from cheating. But only just.
I thought this was going to be a leftist, pelvis-centered manifesto.
It’s nice to be wrong!
This goes right along with my statement that as a mother I am a human kleenex.
One of my best friends is a mother of 7, and between her brood (ranging from newborn to 19) and working as she can as an OB nurse, she has refined my comment about kleenex: “When someone asks me, ‘What do you do?’ I say ‘I am a professional butt-wiper.’ ” Color me gross, but I laughed ‘til I cried with that one.
I’ve thought about this for years. I’m sure there’s an even deeper meaning—hmmm.
(lurker for the past few months—I absolutely love your writing and have prayed for you!)