What vastly different worlds Ann Patchett and I live in. She is constantly surrounded by people who own and can fly planes! I'm not jealous at all.

Because of this memoir I now want to read Kate DiCamillo. I also now know the painting of Maeve from The Dutch House that I had pictured is miles from what it's supposed to be.

It was nice just listening to her talk about her life. The Worthless Servant and the two essays about her father(s) were very touching. The way she speaks about and to the people she loves is heartwarming, so open and unabashed. What's stopping me from loving like that?