Ever since I was a little girl, my absolute favorite thing in the whole world has been to curl up with a good book.
A good book in a hammock.
A good book on my grandmother’s porch.
A good book smuggled under the covers with a flashlight.
A good book held in my right arm as I snuggle my toddler with my left, waiting for sleep to overtake him.
A good book, across from my husband and his good book, on the couch in our first apartment.
A good book in the car on a trip or on a plane, keeping me company across the miles.
A good book in the sky chair that swings under the canopy of our forest.
A good book.
Thanks to my husband who just returned from a weeklong trip and an aching pain in my side where the ailing ovary will soon come out, I had a few hours (yes, hours!) to read a book this morning. It was fabulous.