Saturday, May 23, 2020

I Still Dream About You

I Still Dream About You

Adult fiction
My advisor believes that it's a good thing that I balance my
academic reading with novels. It's a good thing she has a tolerance
for fiction. I can't imagine passing up a gem by Fannie Flagg. Of
all her books so far I Still Dream About You has to be the most
amazing. It sort of a Southern belle version of It's A Wonderful Life.
"Today was the day Maggie had been thinking about, obsessing
about really, for the past five years.
But now that it was actually here, she was surprised at how calm
she felt: not at all as she had imagined; certainly not as it would
have been portrayed in a novel or in a movie. No heightened
emotions. No swelling of background music...Just the normal end of a
normal workday, if any one ever could consider the real estate
business normal."
Maggie's life hasn't turned out anything like she'd envisioned
it in her earlier Miss Alabama days. She's alone. The attentive
husband and beautiful children never materialized. Her profession has
been getting uglier and more cut throat. The mentor and boss who
fueled her former optimism has been dead for years. Why not get out
before the trials and tribulations of getting older add to her misery?
Maggie has everything planned from her very unusual plan for
exiting the world to her carefully written ("...She wanted to strike
just the proper tone: not too formal, yet not too casual.
Businesslike, but casual...) farewell note. But every time she nears
her date with destiny a snag that reveals her decency results in her
postponing it. Before you've read far into the book, if you're
anything like me, you'll hope that one of the glitches results in a
permanent change of plans.
On a purrrsonal note, today is a very special day in the Hathaway
household. I adopted Lady Tobago exactly five months ago. She has
made the house her domain and has enchanted the whole family. Eugene
is at camp. But Tobago and I will have a nice happy hour featuring
albacore tuna for us both and beer and cheezits for me (Jules).
My hooman can have the beer. It smells like wet goggie. But nothing
says party on like albacore tuna. Too bad we can't score some nip.
(Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to Anna who brought us together.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway


Sent from my iPod

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