My birthday was last weekend and, in order to celebrate being halfway though my twenties, good times were had. There was good company, good food, and good yarn. Lots of good yarn. Plus, a few good books too. Now that the weekend is several days past, I'm several dozen pages intoFever Dream and following the exploits of one of my favorite literary characters, Aloysius Pendergast. Based on the frenetic pace with which I read the first 60 pages, it won't be long before I'm reading The Girl Who Played With Fire.
During birthday lunch, my dad asked how old I was. My reply, "Old enough." I'll probably say that next year too but, like the pages of my book, I'm sure this year will pass far too quickly.