Status Updates From Farewell, I'm Bound to Leav...

Beautiful book which I am roughly halfway through. Pleasant to meander through the pages at no particular pace, as the chapters tell stories which are enjoyable independent of their priors.

In the valleys after the sun rolls behind the hills, and just before the sky turns gray and the little brown birds seek their bushes, there is a period of violet light eerie in its effects. The jonquil's yellow and the dogwood's whiteness become almost vocal in the intensities of their colors and the sides of hills and buildings lose definition of surface and become softer in aspect.

In the valleys after the sun rolls behind the hills, and just before the sky turns gray and the little brown birds seek their bushes, there is a period of violet light eerie in its effects. The jonquil's yellow and the dogwood's whiteness become almost vocal in the intensities of their colors and the sides of hills and buildings lose definition of surface and become softer in aspect.

That was a great distinction between them. My grandmother had not the slightest fear of death and would speak of it with warm familiarity. But my mother couldn't abide the thought. Whenever a hint of death brushed her attention, she frowned and made an annoyed gesture with her left hand, as if someone in her presence had made a joke of dubious taste.

"Now it's a truth," my grandmother told me, "that life is difficult and man is condemned to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow and we had all better take heed and store up for the hard times a-coming. I've never been one to say a body should spend the livelong day in frolic and foolish merriment. But there's a cast of mind that makes things cheerfuler.