I made it through twelve days of spring break as an attentive, involved mother. I played card games and board games, travelled cheerfully, led adventures, and bought treats.

On the afternoon of the thirteenth day, I curled up in a small ball with a good book and refused to make dinner. (It’s fortunate I’m not a single parent.)

The book, incidentally, was Story House. I love when a book makes you think, “how does the writer know all that stuff?” In this case, Timothy Taylor appears to be a genius of architecture, boxing, sport fishing, molecular gastronomy, and, most impressively, counterfeiting.

It’s not an easy read (take that with a grain of salt, since I spend much of my time reading children’s books), but a thoroughly fascinating one.

With the book finished, Day 14 of spring break was successfully navigated. I have now recovered my sanity and given up my Julie McCoy act, at least until summer strikes.

Onwards to my own work…