Because B&B lived in Australia for eight years, they would send us things we wouldn't probably otherwise know about, like Tim Winton novels and TimTams.
On their island bookshelf, now that they are back, I have been looking through the mix of here and there books, and on Monday afternoon came to Tom Kenneally's Bettany's Book. It is six-hundred pages thick, and threads together the lives of several related people a century and a half apart, first several Europeans new to Australia -- both born and transported there -- and then two sisters several generations later. Along with paralleling these generations of people writing about their lives and becoming who they are, it also involves what happened in the Sudan during the nineties, for one of the sisters goes there. It is a book of echoes, and of deepening, and I happily slurped into it and just now am washed up afterwards, and B is calling me to a new episode of CSI, the original, and I am not sure I can handle the shift.
Nor am I ready to prepare to leave here, to make -- tomorrow -- the shuttle reservations for Saturday. I would be a dreamer and a drifter, always, someone not tied to where I live, for altogether too many reasons.
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