New pile I fetched at the library's used bookstore on Saturday. I'd taken one of the kids' cars and went out by myself, which is rare in itself. Each book was only a dollar, which I found to be irresistible. Also picked up a copy of the Orthodox church's liturgy, paperback and well-loved. I'm such a pushover for liturgical books. My husband took one look at my pile and said, with a grin, that I'd obviously not gotten anything for him. He's more into harder works, and with him sort of being a non-reader in the past, that's curious to me. I admire that. And actually, he's the one who encouraged me to finish Middlemarch. I'd slog along and he'd push me to read one more day's worth. Finally, it worked. I did get to the end. He'll read Dante's Inferno, Paradise Lost, or anything by Chesterton, has read all of Lewis, and now he's reading Sir Thomas Malory's book about King Arthur. He does have a weak spot for Flannery O'Connor as well. She creeps me out. I tease him that he's fond of Catholic writers even though he'll try to deny it. He's pretty much a hard-line Protestant, which is excellent, and has plenty to say about the Virgin Mary and anything to do with Saint's Days, which I find hilarious because we always celebrate Feast Days. And as I tell him, so what? Does it do any harm? :)
He seems to be coming around to the Anglican way, though, with no pressure from anyone. He'll find one bone to pick, and I'll tell him what I think or know, and he'll go off and chew on that. He's talking about Communion now, like he'll actually go up to receive it. One more thing slowly changing that's worthy of giving thanks. And as we Anglicans say, "Thanks be to God."
