I was ill all weekend. That horrible sore throat plus body aches and fever thing that's been going around. Plenty of sleep seemed to be all I needed, so I slept most of Sunday (hence no Salon on Sunday!). The thing about napping all day means that I didn't get to sleep until about 1:30 this morning. With two small children to look after, I feel like today is going to be painful.
This week I finished three books. The War Poems by Wilfred Owen, which I could only dip into here and there and couldn't read for long anyway. Very powerful and beautiful and sad. And my sleepless night allowed me to finish Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt in one sitting. I wish I'd read that book when I was younger. It was such a magical little book. It made me think of all the other books that I did when I was a little girl and look for such a list coming up soon.
But most of the week was spent with Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier. Since Regeneration, I've been on this war kick. It's not something I was particularly interested in before, the effects of war on soldiers, families, relationships. But now I find I'm drawn to it. I wonder if it's just a phase or if it's my brain trying to understand the decisions and motivations of those close to me that have been involved in war. I'm not sure. Until I figure it out, I think I'm going to continue with this war-phase as much as I'm able to.