So this morning, I got up at six a.m. because my cats were starting to get frisky and because that often means – in our regression from litter training – that I have to lock them in the basement right away. So then I was up – in fact, I was up and sitting in my basement waiting to see how would “poop in the potty (cats are not kids, but I do feel I have a small sense of what it might be like to potty train a child – not fun!). And I had this amazing sensation – peace. I had nowhere else to go – I don’t have to leave for church for three hours yet – and it unsettled me for a moment. What was I to do with all this time on my hands? Then, I sank into it, my bum on the wooden stair, and relaxed. How great!!

So in that air of relaxation I decided to pick up an old Sunday morning habit I had when I lived in Harrisburg (isn’t it funny how habits become associated with places?), and I chose a book to read. I started Divine Nobodies by Jim Palmer. It’s a book my mom gave me some months ago after her book club read it, and so far I really like it. The premise is that we find God in unexpected places, places that often have nothing to do with religion or the organized church – here is a premise I can embrace wholeheartedly. I’ll let you know how the book continues, but if you want a taste of the book and Palmer’s witty writing and thoughtful reflections, check out his blog.

Meanwhile, I”m also reading – but have not finished – several other books. I’m still working my way through The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, which is very good but perhaps too heady for me in the summer. We’ll see how that goes when the semester starts up.

I also read a couple of stories from Uwem Akpan Say You’re One of Them. These stories – told from the perspective of children – are heart-rending. When I read the story that lends the book it’s title, I heaved out a sigh so loud it frightened the cats. A beautiful book and one that is so important in telling us about perspectives we don’t often consider here in the states.

For fun, I’ve been reading Missing Susan by Sharyn McCrumb. Light mystery fare but good.

Tomorrow, my reading will suddenly become full of grammar charts and meeting minutes, but for today, I’m reveling in the fact that I don’t have to be anywhere at anytime that I don’t want to be there. What a glorious feeling.