I have been reading Sanditon, a fragment left by Jane Austin
and finished by a woman styling herself as "another lady".
She is very good because the book advances seamlessly. Of
course I am an Austin fan and can hardly wait to see how
the good, deserving heroine gets the sophisticated wealthy
man.

On another note, have you ever heard of the death of someone
you once loved romantically and encountered the empty feeling
it engenders? I have had such a loss recently and it bothered me a great deal more than I thought it would, although it
has been 28 years since I last saw him. Probably because he
was always there if I needed him. Selfish witch that I am.