I read a sad book and it made me cry. It made me laugh, too, and it made me angry and fierce and tender and thoughtful. Now I'm re-reading the author's other books, all of which I've loved, and if you want to experience some fantastic writing, even if it's sad, pick up An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken. It's our last book group book of 2013, and even though book group isn't until November 7th, I couldn't wait anymore to read it. It's a super fast read and I gobbled it down in the course of about an hour, and it only took me that long because I had to keep putting it down to blow my nose and wipe my eyes. I hope that if something that tragic ever happens to me I will be able to handle it and write about it with as much grace and directness and humor and love as she did.
The wind picked up today, and it's been raining. The clouds were moving fast along the skyline and there was a rainbow at the bottom of the hill as we drove home from Lund today. "It's in Eslöv!" exclaimed Martin. "No way," I said, "that just ain't possible...it's in Örtofta." But then as we got to the bottom of the hill and turned right toward Flyinge, the rainbow slipped to the side and behind us. A few minutes later, as the road curved slightly, it started pacing the car on the right hand side. "It's doing the same thing the moon did the other day," I said, "It's STALKING US."
Martin scoffed at me. "The road is turning, Mom."
"Whatever. It was behind us and we're hardly turning and in a minute it will be in front of us again...it's freaking me out the way heavenly objects keep swinging wildly through the sky. Can't they show some decorum??"
Martin just rolled his eyes, but a few minutes later, as the rainbow swung in front of us again, I was able to cry out, "SEE???" and then giggle madly.
It was only half a rainbow, though. The left half. I wonder if people in Veberöd were wondering why they only had the right half.