It's spring break this week, and I had great dreams of gentle, quiet leisure time, with our noses in books and not an ounce of bickering of the siblings or destroying of my house.
But then I woke up.
It was a nice dream while it lasted, and the truth is that I could really use a week with my nose in a book. My to-be-read list is bulging, and I have grounded myself from even clicking over to Amazon until I have whittled down the stack that currently sits next to my bed:
I don't know how they all got there; I can only guess that they are multiplying while I sleep.
(If you're curious and can't make out the titles in the picture, the books are Walking On Water, The Last Sin Eater, The Pixar Touch, Rain On Me, A Sane Woman's Guide To Raising a Large Family, The Irrational Season (Hubs noticed that one and asked, "Is it about you?" Cheeky.) Divine Commodity, The Summer Of the Great-Grandmother, A Circle Of Quiet, Bird By Bird, The Complete Stories Of Flannery O'Connor, and Fields Of the Fatherless.)
I am seriously counting on there being books in Heaven someday.
(And, though I may be sorry I asked because this pile will inevitably grow, I still want to know–what are you reading?)