Refugee

I was a fool to believe that age could have improved my immune system. After a few years without nasty illnesses, serious colds, or niggling flu; I caught my fill of something and could barely make myself do anything. Saturday, there was a freezing drizzle, too, so I gave up on listing books or catching up on accounting, took refuge in the pink wing back and began read Suite Francaise. What a large and wonderful book. Irene Nemirovsky's death was senseless and a loss.

Today, I'm feeling better. I finished up my November books, followed up on some wants from the customer wish list, and proofread my Child's Christmas in Wales script for next Friday night. I'm about to take refuge again, get back to France, the invasion of Paris...

Of course, I wouldn't mind it if a customer interrupted for just a minute or two or three. I might even let them buy the book from my hands...