If I wasn't so happy with the way this day has gone, I would be mourning the end of another summer today, but it has been gorgeous here - the leaves have just started to change color this week, and it's been hot and humid - AND... I have my Portland book.
Elizabeth (Eliza) Pearce was a hoot. This I can tell, and I only got to page 20 before going into work. She starts off keeping a journal when she is only 11, and she remarks on the year that has just passsed, Louis XVI having met his fate with the guillotine and all hell breaking loose in France. There are only five other entries before her seventeenth year when she is 'grown up', and "there is much I don't like in this; for I must give up my tomboy ways, they tell me. I do love jumping and running on the stone trollies, when none is nigh to see." We have a free spirit here.
Back to it then. Morning will come fast, and a 12-hour shift with it.
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