I have been rereading Updike's Rabbit, Run this week. Have I mentioned that I've reread the three other Rabbit books numerous times but this one only once? My reason for not rereading this book has nothing to do with liking or disliking it. In fact, as I'm now rediscovering, the novel is wonderful. My trouble is the scene in which Harry's wife accidentally lets her infant drown in the bathtub. For some reason, I find that scene so harrowing that I can hardly even think about it. When I first read the novel, I was the mother of an infant; so I chalked up my fear to my sense of being too close to the issue. But this time through, as I got closer and closer to that passage, I became more and more nervous. I did, eventually, skim the scene, but I cannot say that I actually managed to read those four or five pages.

I'm curious about other readers' visceral fears. Or is this just me?

Dinner tonight: cream of mushroom soup from Julia Child's first cookbook. (Finally my children have gotten over their mushroom-hating habits, so finally I can make this beautiful soup again. It is one of the best foods I know.) And I'm making chocolate cake for my Valentines.