Finally reading it.
I’m notorious for saving things like books and gift cards and special jams and oils until the perfect moment. For instance, Harry Potter 7? Still on my bookshelf waiting. I’m terrified for the series to be over, so I’m just not reading the last book. NERD.
And Molly’s book. I’m only just beginning, but I’m forcing myself to read slowly, maybe only one chapter per night. And already it has reduced me to tears on multiple occasions. Such a sap I’ve become in my advancing age. Anyway, it’s beautiful and makes me feel like I have no purpose in life. Only scattered hobbies and a job. Le sigh.
But it’s softly, passionately inspiring. Maybe I need a trip to Paris to fully understand my calling? Yes. Mostly likely that is it. Looking at tickets now…
(I’m labeling this as “buy handmade.” Even though she didn’t technically make the book herself, she did make all the lovely words and I think that’s just as good).