Since nothing interesting came in the mail today, and the weather was a nondescript gray, and I didn't see any movies, and the only work I did was trying to locate the Boss to give him his messages, and the U.S. television networks won't show curling no matter how many letters I send, I'm left with nothing to write about. I did get out, briefly, to the post office, and I picked up the paper and dropped in on Mom, but other than that I spent most of the day up in the loft finishing The Copper Beech.
I love this book, by the way, and I don't know where Maeve Binchy has been all my life. I only have the book because the book club had a special price on a three-volume set. All three have been sitting on my shelf for months, but now I'm grateful to have two more of her works to look forward to reading.
This one will always be special to me. It made me cry more than once, for more than one character. It's a celebration of life, and the way the lives of the people in a small Irish village intertwine. It's also about how you can never know the truth about a person's character or motivations just by looking at that person through someone else's eyes. Someone who appears to be callous or cool on the surface might be unsure and frightened underneath.
Each chapter of the book is one character's story, and the other people in the town appear from that person's point of view. By the end, you have a picture of how people can live together and accommodate one another, even though no one can know what lies within the depths of another person's soul.