I can hardly believe it, but I've been reading the same book for 17 days. Or maybe even longer; I've actually kind of lost track of time. The culprit: Richard Russo's The Bridge of Sighs. For the first week I seriously read 3 pages each night before falling asleep. I think I was on page 21 at the end of the first week, and I had no idea what I was reading. I came soooooo close to giving this book up; but now that I'm nearly done, I'm glad I didn't. I'll hopefully be done within two days and can finally post a review.
In other bookish news, I went to the library today and was terribly confused. I usually go during the day when it's nice and quiet there, but apparently there was no school today and it was packed with people. I'm happy that they all like the library, but I was feeling the need for peace and quiet, which is why I left my own children at home. Anyway, I did pick up three books on my TBR list. Actually, I picked up only one book (The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon) on my actual TBR list; the other two were on my mental TBR list (Alexander McCall-Smith's Tea Time for the Traditionally Built and Still Alice by Lisa Genova).
Here's a cool thing: I met a new friend who said that she actually picked our city to move to because she loved the look of the library from the website! She and her husband are retired, and they each had a special desire: she wanted to be near a great library, and he wanted to be able to hike. My kind of people.