I'm loving this book, which I started reading over breakfast this morning. I'd woken up at the bizarre hour of 4:15, couldn't get back to sleep, and decided to treat myself to an eggs-and-bacon breakfast in the coffee shop, where breakfast is much better than the flavorless dinner I had last night.
The Lydon book's beautifully written, thoughtful, and very moving. Here's one of my favorite passages:
I have come to believe that love is ultimately mysterious, a gift from the Creator, a gift of grace. Our happiness comes from loving and being loved, and the work we do with our hands is tied in with it. "Hands to work, hearts to God," the Shakers used to say. Can it be that we become more capable of loving when our hands engage in creation, and that those around us who are hurting or vulnerable are soothed and succored by being tied to the movements of our hands? (41)I wonder if Gary feels this way about cooking. (Do you, Gar? Minus the God part, I mean, which I know you don't believe?) I realize that for a while now, I've been wistfully jealous of his ability to make caring concrete with food. Now I feel like I have a way to do the same thing with yarn, although it will be quite a while before my creations are as satisfying to the senses as his!
In other news, I took some Claritin last night, and it's helping a little, although I still feel like my sinuses are stuffed with oatmeal. The back's better, though.