From noonish to 6:30, I have probably only read five hours and gotten three books done.
Poblocki, Dan. Haunting of Gabriel Ashe
Shulman, Polly. The Wells Bequest
Standiford, Natalie. The Boy on the Bridge
The Boy on the Bridge was SOOOOOOO sad and reminded me of my year in Greece in 1985. Not that I had a great romance like Laura did (and her romomate was Karen, and the book was set in 1982), but I knew people who did have romances like this. So good! Made me really sad, though, that my college experience is now the subject of historical fiction.
Oddly, I don't have pictures of myself in Greece. I went through a phase of only taking slides that I would be able to show to my students. Lots of picturesque Greek ruins, but none of me. The reflection of me in the case of jewelry at the museum at Thessaloniki is the best I have. The picture below is me writing in the summer of 1986. Still have the kitchen set and 1958 Smith-Corona typewriter.
Now I don't want to read. I just want to go watch Before Sunrise and weep silently into some ouzo for things that never were. Drat you, Natalie Standiford!
So, yeay! 48HBC. Much better choice!