Found the first two on the shelves of the house in San Francisco where I was staying last week. Had just sprained ankle, so forced so sit in sun and read novels with foot on cushion all day (it was hell…) now home I hobbled to library and got out next two in series. What is it about some books - or perhaps some writers - that really makes you feel good? Can’t say Maupin has actually cured the ankle, but the discovery of his books so late in my life (don’t ask, honey) has certainly lifted my spirits. So glad I sprained my ankle. I think.
Tales of the City
