I read "Mansfield Park" today, and for some reason, found it kind of depressing. What?! Jane Austen, depressing?! I think it is because I feel that Austen's uncannily REAL depiction of Fanny Price, the main character, highlighted some of my own faults. Those sentiments she gave Fanny--of rejoicing in being overlooked, of an unwillingness to offer opinions on the pretense of modesty--sentiments that Austen painted with all the praise these qualities deserved in Victorian society, are feelings I have too often. And, in case you haven't noticed, the Georgian era's been over for 200 years. My conclusion? Fanny Price, be gone! I will enjoy you in print but will no longer entertain your spirit in conversation--now that I know that it's YOU I have been entertaining. So there.
Man, I should be an exorcist.
Well, Pat is off for ten days interpreting for an 80-year old German couple at Yellowstone. In the meantime, I am working at my family's B&B in Spring City, filling in for my sister who took a 2 week vacation. Coming here always leads to introspection--a town of 500 and a slow business will do that to you. Though business is not quite so slow--we've had 5 rooms rented this week and will have 4 next week. That is about as much as I can handle with a 2 month old.
Ber is actually growing up! I had my doubts. But yesterday he was so PRESENT, gurgling and smiling and practically hyperventilating in hoarse ecstasies when I gurgled and smiled back. It was his first adorable conversation. OUR first conversation! That moment has made the 2 months (well 4, counting his last 2 months in the womb) of sleepless nights bearable almost bearable. I never knew with such conviction the correlation between sleep and sanity (not to mention patience, cheerfulness, etc.). Seriously, people, you want me to drive?
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