Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury

Well, this book nearly meets my criteria.  I could do with a little more dialogue, as sleep deprivation makes it kind of hard to concentrate for extended pages of description.

However, the era is right up my alley.  Summer, 1928.  The boy is 12 years old.  The town has front porches, lawns, huge trees, ice-cream trucks.

This is totally a setting from my childhood – NOT!  So why is it so nostalgic?  Beats me.  But it had me daydreaming about my own summers and the summer memories my baby girl will have.  So far her experiences are so so different from mine, that I struggle to remember that things that are so strange to me, will be her “normal”.  I guess it is the contents of life rather than the outer form that are most important. 

So, I am savoring each page and am thankful for the short chapters so I can put it down to make supper and rock that sweet baby to sleep.

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