“That’s it... I’m going to go to a nunnery”

AT HOME, four days after finding Trollope’s Chronicles of Barsetshire under the tree, in a box with my name on it.

I’m sitting at the table, looking around the kitchen — full of turkey, people, fun, games, and bins that require emptying — and thinking that an opportunity to read The Chronicles of Barsetshire would have made a superb accompaniment to the gift. How handy to find that along with the books in the box under the tree.

Frankly, I’m considering escape.