July was a slow reading month. I found this book in my TBR bookcase, but as I started realized by my notes in it that I have read it before. The author dropped French words in it and I had to look them up for translations and added those in the margins. Since I had no memory of it, I read her book again. May Sarton was a novelist and poet. She loved men and women, had a parrot for a pet, and socialized with a wide variety of people. She wrote about her writing, other writers' works, friends, lovers, gardening, feminism, and her own philosophical thoughts. Even though it was written in 1973, I still found it to be an interesting read, maybe more memorable this time? lol
