“If we don’t go mad once in a while, there’s no hope.” —Rachel Joyce

Anyone else got a case of the Sunday Scaries? How is Monday only a few short hours away? I’m here to say that three is not the magic number if it marks how many jobs you currently have. Summer term is kickin’ my fanny. But not nearly as much as National Chemical. (The essay consulting gig is just fine.) I’m bound to go mad. Let’s just hope it’s a once-in-a-while affair.

Of course, three is the magic number where Rachel Joyce and Harold Fry are concerned.  I have no good reasons for just now reading The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, a decade after it was published. How did the slow-but-steady walkin’ Brit land at the top of my tbr pile? The answer’s pretty simple: I miss Marge and Enid. No surprise there. I do have a surprise however—like Harold, I just kept going. I went on to read The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy and Maureen: A Harold Fry Novel.  

Posted by Tracy