“May 7 — I love my garden. I am [reading] in it now in the late afternoon loveliness …” I’ve been waiting a year to read this book, which begins with that opening sentence. Enchanted April is a sentimental favorite of mine, ever since I saw the film and read the book back in the 90s, so when I spotted a book by the same author on @cincybookbus last year, I immediately ordered it. Written in 1898, the book is a bucolic account of this upper class woman’s garden and her life therein. It’s a little escape from the realities of 21st century life that I sorely need right about now.