There must be something in books, things we can't imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there.

I'm laying in bed on Sunday morning. My excuse for this could be that my roommate - in this temporary habitation - moved out this week, leaving not a single stick of furniture behind her (even though she left a lot of other crap). But I will admit that I am back under the covers, just listening to the wind blow through the trees outside my window, and feeling it blow the cool air inside.

It's been a great weekend.

Actually the week ended quite well too. I planned a celebration of Banned Books Week for my class on Friday. On Wednesday, I asked each of them to pick a book from the list and bring it in with a passage to read to the rest of the class. I walked into the classroom Friday morning, rather burdened down by my own stack of banned books (who can pick just one? And I guess I should be glad for a moment that I do not have all my boxes of books here, because I would have been carrying even more, but I wasn't really happy about that at the time), and one of my students said to me "This is the best assignment ever! I had so much fun reading about banned books!"

I almost dropped all my books.

At first I had no idea how to respond. No one has ever said anything like that before. Liking an assignment? So then I just grinned and said I'm glad you enjoyed it.