the one that felt like candy.

Some people read Picoult, others Patterson, and then Evanovich.  And we judge those people.  Although we really, really shouldn't.  Reading the cereal box is still reading.  And reading is good.

Maeve Binchy's books are like cotton candy to me.  It's a little Irish soap opera that I love.  I turn green with envy when I read about the characters in St. Jarlath's Crescent.  Hardly anyone lives in an ACTUAL neighborhood anymore.  At least I can read about one.

That said, I'm starting to embrace my little Newport.  I've been going to some women's organizing meetings lately.  Our first project is a community garden.  And I've been walking with my 59 yo neighbor who (gasp) brought me over cookies the other day.  So I could identify when I read this book - a bit.

I'm almost approaching a Maeve Binchy shelf in my library.
I'm happy to add Minding Frankie to it.  I smiled when I read it.
I don't care if Maeve is Ireland's Jan Karon or Lorna Landvik, I think she's just grand.