And I spent that summer (my first summer in two years that I was not a graduate student) reading the diaries and letters of Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Chris and I lived in a tiny house house - one where you could clean everything in a morning - and I vividly remember laying on the freshly made bed, in the freshly cleaned room with the vacuum marks still intact - the soft glow from the bedside lamp, reading these books. At some point Chris would come into the room with a hot fudge sundae for me and I remember feeling so loved, so well cared for, as if everything in my life was finally in place.
I loved reading memoirs and diaries, and especially loved reading these letters and diaries during that time of my life. And I love remembering, looking back on that time period and having these books so very intricately woven into life.
Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead