Gleanings, and what you put in, you get out.

I decided that I need to read something funny, and the latest book I bought is by an author who is not at all funny–she’s good, but not one bit of funny.

Yes, there is the element of cocaine in the book, from 1938.

So it came to me that I had not readMiss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, by Winifred Watson, in some time. I do love the British voice, and especially the British voice from the middle of the past century. I’ve already done a post on the novel and author Watson; you can read it here.

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