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 ...
555 days, 55 goals. For every goal I complete by the end of the 555 days, I'll donate $2 to the Roanoke Community Bail Fund.