But a quiet weekend looms ahead and it's time to catch my blogging breath!
I've had Paris on my mind again lately, so this week I'm going to highlight John Baxter's The Most Beautiful Walk in the World: A Pedestrian in Paris.
Flipping through the front pages is a tantalising experience.
A map of Paris with a key of things to see and visit.
A quote by Walt Whitman to whet our appetites "We must not tarry here, We must march my darlings." Three delicious pages of contents...and then,
chapter 1 "To Walk the Walk".
"Every day, heading down rue de l'Odéon toward
Café Danton on the corner of boulevard Saint-Germain
or towards the market on rue Buci, I pass them.
"Walking in Paris requires the same rhythm.
People who lead tours or write guides crave an itinerary,
the route A to B.
The flâneur has no such aim."
I doubt very much that this book will make me cry.
I suspect it will make me pine and yearn and hope.
It will probably make my itchy feet squirm with impatience.
But cry? No.
Parajunkee and Alison Can Read have asked the question this Friday "What was the last book to make you cry?"
I don't cry easily, but I do get teary and sentimental and gushy. Occasionally a book will cause a few tears to run down my cheeks. Only a couple have made me sob.
They have caused me to sob as an adult as well.
They are Anne of Green Gables (when Matthew dies) and Seven Little Australians (the final chapter watching them all get on without Judy!!!!!) - it gets me every time.
Little Women/Good Wives almost makes it into this category with a heaving chest and a big long drawn out sigh of sadness, but, alas, no sobs!
The last time tears ran down my cheeks whilst reading was Room by Emma Donoghue.
I also remember some tears at the end of The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay, The Bridge to Terebithia by Katherine Paterson, Looking for Alibrandi by Melina Marchetta, The Colour Purple by Alice Walker and The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak.
For those of you who don't know The Power of One, let me enlighten you with a Friday Flashback.
I didn't read it until the movie starring Morgan Freeman came out in 1992.
It's set in South Africa during apartheid in the 1940's and 50's - a time we now know well thanks to the memoirs of Nelson Mandela.
I don't remember a lot of the details of the book any more, but the injustices of the apartheid system were burnt onto my soul at the time.
It was my first real look at what was going in South Africa & coincided with the release of Mandela from prison.
It horrified me that I knew so little about the world and that this kind of oppression could still exist in my own lifetime.
I surprised myself by how strongly I responded to this book. I was like the child character, Peekay, slowly having my eyes opened to the horror of apartheid.
Red hot tears of frustration and rage.
Bitter tears at my inability to know what to do to change things.
I'm not sure how my older, more jaded self would view this book now.
I think somes books are meant to be read at a certain time in one's life and never again. And I suspect this may be one of those.
Happy Friday everyone