Monday, August 4, 2014

Let Me Drink What?

So you may not know this one little fact about me:  I'm a crazy serial reader.

That's right. .  . a serial reader.

And in the last three months my appetite for the "classics" has been veracious.  I have re-read my favorite Jane Austen novels. .  .suffered my way through only one Oscar Wilde book (after being spooked by Dorian Gray, why would you venture another???). . .  worked my way through at least seven novels by Trollope (I'm not the trollope, mind you, Anthony quite clearly was). . . and - with Henry James on deck in the batter's box - I'm now thoroughly enthralled by Edith Wharton.

Or I was. . .

Until I stumbled upon the following quote by her today:

This quote. . . on this day.

The day after my return from the family "vacation" which nearly undid me. . . the very day after the very night I listened for the return of one daughter who never came home and another who departed for Boston at 4:00 a.m. . . .the day I woke up and literally hobbled throughout the house with the pain in my knees, ankles and hips. .  . the day I succumbed to a two-hour nap. . . the day I took one look at the bright beautiful sunshine and thought:  Oh how many layers of SPF clothing and how much suncreen will I need to protect myself from THAT!. . .the unmistakeable day when I decided to shut myself in my air-conditioned house and bury myself in Edith - despite the fact that there isn't an ounce of food in this house? And This is what Edith has to say to me today???

Oh Edith, how you disappoint!

So I'm changing your quote, lady.   I'm changing it to this:

Keep Closed the Windows and Let Me Drink My Box!