For the past couple of days I have been somewhat swallowed up in Eva Ibbotson's The Morning Gift. This was the one Ibbotson historical I'd somehow missed. I'm going to finish it tonight, so a review will be forthcoming. But until then, please have this—Christopher Plummer's unparalleled recitation of "Brown Penny" by W.B. Yeats. A line from this poem makes a brief but shatteringly perfect appearance in The Morning Gift, and I can't . . . I can't get it out of my head.
I've been a bit scarce round these parts of late and I feel badly about it. But there is a good reason and I've been waiting until today to share it with you. Just so I could include one rather pertinent detail. It's a boy! Fortunately I'm at the point where I'm starting to feel better, so things should soon start resembling business as usual around here. I, for one, am relieved.
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