And so we have come to the last day of birthday week. Did you all eat a cupcake in my honor yesterday dear readers?
My sister and I attempted to put up a new fall background today, but we finally gave up after nine failed attempts. So, unless we meet with more failure tomorrow, there will be a new fall background up when that blog entry goes up.
Here I am holding one of my all-time favorite birthday presents, a painting of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s house in Mansfield, Missouri that my Grandmother painted for me. Unfortunately the painting doesn’t show up very well in that picture.
Behind me is one of my other favorite presents, a new chalkboard (and I really needed a new one because I had really worn out the old one by forcing my sister to play endless hours of school.) The chalkboard was a present from my Uncle Andy who has a delightful habit of hiding money in birthday presents. Not only does he hide it, but he manages to strategically cut the plastic on the gift and slide the money in, all without any detectable opening in the package. I have no idea how he does.
Today’s book, "Generations of readers young and old, male and female, have fallen in love with the March sisters of Louisa May Alcott’s most popular and enduring novel, Little Women. Here are talented tomboy and author-to-be Jo, tragically frail Beth, beautiful Meg, and romantic, spoiled Amy, united in their devotion to each other and their struggles to survive in New England during the Civil War."
Shallow thoughts -
- After reading today’s book I’m feeling very torn about what my favorite book is. I was so sure that Anne of Green Gables was my favorite book, but reading today’s book made me start to question that. Actually, reading every book this week made me question that decision - each book made me think This one is definitely my favorite. So, now I’m back at square one, unable to chose a favorite.
- I’ve always loved today’s book - and I have been wanting to read it all year - but I’ve been saving it for birthday week. I first read Little Women when I was about 10 years old, and it took me slightly over a month. So I thought it would be really fun to try to read in one day a book that I couldn’t even read in one month 20 years ago. The edition of the book that I read is not the same one I read as a child - I have no idea what happened to that edition but I do remember it was a really ugly shade of blue.
- The edition I read today starts on page 15, and I really enjoy that, because if I’m going to go to the arduous task of actually having to turn those first few pages then I want to get credit for them. I’d had to think I had turned those pages for nothing.
- While reading today’s book, I was struck once again by how my sister is just like Amy March (actually she’s a cross between Amy March and Emma Woodhouse.) She dramatic, shallow, self-involved . . . oh wait, that sounds like I’m describing myself. Perhaps we’re both Amy March. Here’s the sentence that reminded me of her, "Amy, though the youngest, was a most important person, - in her own opinion at least." - Oh my, that does sound like me. Just the other day I was telling someone that I like to think that people are losing sleep at night over the mystery of what I really look like. Deep down inside I know this is not true - but I like to pretend like you are all unable to sleep, struggling to focus on your jobs, and basically losing all ability to think clearly in the midst of the mystery.