I hope I’m still alive when you’re reading this. It’s supposed to be like six thousand degrees here today, so there’s a pretty serious possibility I either melted or evaporated. Or at least some of my flowers seriously wilted. It’s been a rough road keeping them hydrated the last few days (maybe I avoid being outside at all costs), so I hope they’ll hang on through this spell.
I took part in the #24in48 Readathon this weekend, though a bit of an abbreviated version. We had a friend visiting from out of town, so I just did my best to squeeze in some extra reading time. I didn’t come close to 24 hours, but ended up flying through more than I’ve read in a while. I finished up Children of the New World by Alexander Weinsten and Riverine by Angela Palm, which I started earlier in the week, and gobbled up Jacqueline Woodson’s Another Brooklyn in a few hours. Now I’m a little over halfway through The Hopefuls by Jennifer Close, which is proving to be just the light dose of fun wit I’ve been missing.