Thursday, September 5, 2013

A Week in Winter

Today, as I was watching my four year old daughter run around in her knickers at my in-laws house, I sat reading Maeve Binchy's last novel, A Week in Winter. I've been reading it solemnly because I feel like there will be a huge void in my life without Ms. Binchy writing ME new novels.

There isn't a time that I haven't walked into a thrift shop and not searched for Maeve's books.  It will be somehow different.  Somehow less exciting.

I ended up buying this book on eBay since it is hard to find.  And I really, really wanted to read it.  So far it's as amazing as any of her other stories have been.

I truly cannot even describe the feelings that Maeve's novels have provided me.  It's like coming home while being as far away from home as you can imagine.  It's like falling in love with people that you've never even met... because they actually only existed in this amazing story teller's mind.  But you can't quite admit to yourself that they aren't real people.  You want them to be real people and real places.  At least I do.

I love imagining the places where she allows us to escape to.  In this novel, she takes us to the Ireland countryside along the western shoreline.  In her book she describes the shoreline to be one of the most beautiful places in the world.  In my mind, I picture Highway 1, just south of Carmel, near Big Sur.

I have this image of a tall, slightly run down stone house where most of the story takes place.  It overlooks the ocean and is cold and unruly.  I checked google images and came up with a few, but nothing as awesome as the image that she allows me in my mind.

 It's like these... but much grander and on a lovely parcel of green overgrown land.

I'm only about a hundred pages in so far, but I feel like I've traveled the little road that leads to Stony Brook and I'm just longing to help spruce up the old stone house and the stone cottage that Rigger and Carmel live in.

But for now, I'll be happy enjoying the gorgeous view of my little cottage here in California.  Or at least its roof.

...... but I miss the anticipation of a new Maeve Binchy book.

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