Pride and Prejudice

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. It is a truth less universally acknowledged, that a woman in possession of a name taken directly from an iconic work of literature, and furthermore, in possession of a sister with a name taken from that same iconic work of literature, must be in want of every adaptation of that piece of literature—the more cute and needle-felted the better.

I got home from a very long day at work, feeling somewhat dejected and beaten down and also just too tired to really know what to do with myself except shuffle from kitchen to living room, complaining (which Josh found delightful, I assure you.) It was a while before I had enough gumption to open the mail. But oh, what I found there! Jensi, who I have known since the late 80s, sent me the latest (and in my opinion most brilliant) adaptation of P&P I have ever seen. I don't want to spoil anything for you, but it's a board book for young children, all the illustrations are needle-felted, and the story is told in a dozen words.

Emboldened by opening that mail, I opened another piece of mail, and inside was a handmade book/blessing from my friend Amy, who I have known since the early 90s. A beautiful, thoughtful poem upon my turning 50.

And you know what? I didn't feel quite so crabby, and I took my tiny books to bed, and read them and re-read them until I fell asleep.