It finally happened. While my sister has just finished her ninth book, I just finished reading my first book this year, which was half-cheating because I read quite a bit of it last year. Which of course leads to my confession: I am terrible about finishing books. I have at least ten books that I started reading last year that remain unfinished reads. And because I am who I am, I have excuses:
1) Yarn-related activities.
However, I am professing it now. I plan on reading a Jane Austen novel a year. I'd say all of them, but it turns out that crocheting takes up so much of my time that I rarely get to set my eyes on other things while working on a crocheted object (and on the off-chance that I'm knitting, I never do anything else).
And now, to buy more Smooshy. It's dead gorgeous.