Today I got back into Swann's Way, and am so glad I did. I guess I found some quiet patience again, some ability to just let the words flow past me and do their magic -- and Proust could definitely do magic with words. I paused over and re-read many paragraphs and pages, and realized that this novel is actually a collection of hundreds - maybe thousands - of poems, all strung together over hundreds of pages to form, eventually, a story. So far, I'm finding it hard to see any plot to the story, but I am thoroughly enjoying the poetry!

This evening, we spent  (as usual) a comforting few hours in front of a comforting  fire . . . . how lucky we are!