Thursday, August 30, 2012


I got home late, late from book club tonight. Stayed after chatting with friends I haven't seen enough of since spring.

The first book club I joined was a neighborhood club when we moved to Springville nearly 20 years ago. I remember hanging out with all of these women who, on the surface, seemed very homogenous. But as we discussed the books we read, I realized how different we were in so many ways.

I loved it.

I loved getting to know the women who laughed with abandon and the women who rewarded us with rare smiles. I loved getting to know the women who spent every spare minute with their noses in books and the women who never read anything but the book we were discussing that month. I loved the women who connected with many of the the ideas we explored and the women who couldn't care less about them but who enjoyed being there to bask in friendship.

Books. Talking about books. Talking.

Love. Love. Love.


Kazzy said...

Always good to see you, friend. And glad you brought
your optimism along.

misssrobin said...

Beautiful analysis of some of the reasons I love book club, too. I am so often amazed by how differently we all see the same things. It's so enjoyable to bask in the variety of thought.