As summer draws to a close I have decided it is time to set the fluffy summer novels aside and read something more classic. The sun is lower in the sky, the air has that "approaching autumn" visible yellowing by mid afternoon, the breeze is slightly cooler and my husband is packing up for his end of summer campout.
I have chosen Charles Dickens' "Martin Chuzzlewit". It has been so many decades since I first read it that it will be like a brand new novel for me. It is one of Dickens' less popular, less well beloved novels, but it is interesting to me...at least it was for the first read. Looking forward to immersing myself in a classic novel and I have always enjoyed Dickens.
The book will be my condolence to myself over the end of a great summer.