Slow Reading

"Do you miss working at [that place which shall not be named]?" asked Mr. Ginley the other day.

"Only some of the people," I replied. 

And it's true, I miss coffee klatching with Chris and Harry and other contemporaries who understood where we'd been and where we were. Being of a similar age, we shared common experiences and understood obscure references. We'd had to navigate ever-changing technology, workforce shifts and growing older – a process that seemed to sneak up on us. 

As Harry might say, "One day you're a young pischer, the next you're an alter kocker."

That's what I miss.

Serendipity is a funny thing. For whatever reason, I recently picked up a copy of Anna Quindlen's book, Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake. The subtitle is "A Memoir of a Woman's Life."

I haven't been reading a lot lately, mostly those cozy mysteries that are devoured and discarded. But clearly, Quindlen's memoir is in a whole other category. 

I've been savoring it.

There's nothing like picking up a book that's filled with page after page where you nod and smile and say, "yep." Quindlen is a few years older than I, but the book was written a decade ago, so she would have been right around my age when she penned it. She talks about everything from childhood memories to marriage and kids to getting older. So much of it resonates with me, that unlike other books I've blown through, I've been reading a chapter at night, right before bed, and taking my sweet time.

Isn't it grand when you find something so copacetic?

I'd love to hear what you've been reading that's touched you. Please pass it along. 

I only have a few chapters left, so I need another slow read soon!