Aren't words wonderful?
Something about putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) opens something up in me. I still don't have the time and mental energy lately to fully develop those thoughts, but I'm working on it.
I've been reading a lot lately, and reading beautiful words opens up those same feelings for me.
I just visited a blog that prompted me to leave this comment:
I'm not sure what to make of this post--I think it's quintessentially Beck--that alluring combination of wistfully sad, brutally honest, and charmingly amusing.
Go read her posts Jiggity Jog (which sparked my comment) and Stillwater (about the role that books and a particular author played in her life).
Then you can click over to 5 Minutes for Mom and read my post about books as Comfort Food.