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#48 - read one book each month outside of schoolwork

If there's one thing I love--luckily, I love more things than that, but if there had to be just one, and it wasn't Ricky or my cat or my family or any of those things--it's Julie Andrews.


I didn't mean for Home to be my September book.  In fact, I was really eying a Dostoevsky for this month, but Ricky and I made the mistake of going into Borders one night and I found this beauty on sale for five dollars.  I opened it up there in the store and proceeded to read for 20 minutes until they announced that the store was closing and I better buy the book or get the heck out.  After a tiny twinge of guilt for spending money on a book that I certainly don't need...I bought it anyway.  (It's a problem.)

And it was AWESOME.  Julie Andrews had a fascinating childhood, and the way she writes is so astoundingly British that my inner reading voice actually develops a strong accent.  I love it.  Her children's book, The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles, is my favorite in the genre--so favorite, in fact, that I bought an extra copy just in case I need to loan it out to someone so they can understand how wonderful it is.  

Did I mention that I love Julie Andrews?

Anyway, Home was a quick, enjoyable read and I hope that Julie Andrews has more memoirs out there for me to devour.  This one ends right after she signs on to do Mary Poppins, and who isn't interested in hearing that story?  If you love Ms. Andrews, you'll love the book.  But, as a wise man once said, "You don't have to take my word for it!"
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