I've had a lazy couple of days. Stupidly I fell down the stairs, and I've been feeling a bit battered and bruised. Nothing serious, just enough to slow me down and have a bit of a temper tantrum.
I've spent my time reading 'Hanna's Daughters' by Marianne Fredriksson and translated by Joan Tate. It was a satisfying read, full of interesting snippets of Swedish history. The characters were complex but frustrating. I'm not sure I agree with the author's summation that the life of a woman is automatically so full of anger. Then again, perhaps my current personal anger (at my clumsiness) has coloured my response.
Life is about looking for magic.
And finding it in the everyday.