Somehow my family has managed to pick up on my Betsy-Tacy fixation. Now, each of these volumes contains TWO books from Betsy's high school years and beyond -- including her European tour and her first year of marriage to her soulmate, whose name is ... No. I can't spoil you. There's Heaven to Betsy/Betsy in Spite of Herself, Betsy Was a Junior/Betsy and Joe, and Betsy and the Great World/Betsy's Wedding. You'll just have to read them for yourself, and I dare you not to be utterly charmed by the heroine and her fiercely loyal family, who never questions the idea that Betsy is destined for greatness as a writer and always puts the coffee pot on in times of crisis.
I've had my nose in these books for the past week or so, and haven't been good for a whole lot else except modeling a love of literature to my young students. The end of the final book is approaching though -- oh, bittersweet! -- and then my house can return to its characteristic state of gleaming, orderly perfection.
Now, now. It's not nice to snort your drink out through your nose.
More bookish stuff: Fellow Austenland fans rejoice! The lovely Ms. Hale is penning a sequel! Midnight in Austenland should be out some time next year.
And finally. My oldest child? The boy who rode around in a sling for the first year of his life, slept on my pillow, and otherwise experienced quite peaceable beginnings? Look what he's been into all weekend.
I'm sure it was just last Tuesday that I was tucking him into an organic cotton onesie. How did this happen? Please send help. You'll find me sheltered in a locked closet, reading a book. Over and out.