once we found those journals, we couldn’t stop reading them. There are about 30 of them. They’re thick and she had very tiny handwriting. We read six of them while we were in FL. But it was slow going because my sister and I are reading them aloud to each other (usually with a bottle of wine) and we keep stopping to talk whenever something in a journal provokes us into talking.
I’m also partway through Barbara Ehrenreich’s Fear of Falling:The Inner Life of the Middle Class. But my mother’s journals took over my reading time.
