this life

I just finished reading, "before women had wings" by Connie May Fowler. I'll admit I don't read much these days because I'm so busy and because a good story affects me so deeply that sometimes I don't like the emotional intensity they can make you feel. I'm also a fast reader, which makes purchasing a book a something I rarely do as I never quite feel like paying for something I could quite concivably finish off before I reach the checkout. I like going to the library to, but it's never quite as seductive as a nice book store where comfy seats make it easy for you to simply gobble up whatevers around you. My sister and I when I was younger used to race each other through books, which I actually enjoyed quite a bit. To this day we are fast readers, and a thick novel that's well written rarely lasts longer than one afternoon. As for my sister though I suspect she's a bit faster than I am. She's quite an acomplished writer so it's something of her element. I don't get a chance to read as much of her stuff as I would like, but I'm very proud of her even if I don't get much of a chance to say so. Hear that sis? I'm proud of you to the very bottom of my heart and soul.