Tuesday Intros~ A Week in Winter by Maeve Binchy

Every Tuesday Diane @ Bibliophile by the Sea hosts First Chapter, First Paragraph where we share the first paragraph or two of a book we are reading or thinking about reading soon.  Feel free to grab the image and participate.

My Tuesday Intro pick is A Week in Winter by Maeve Binchy. Maeve Binchy is one of my favorite authors and she is one of those go to authors for me that I find comfort in reading her words and stories and connections to the characters. It is with great sadness that this is her last book as Maeve died last July of 2012. I am savoring this book and it is one that I am having trouble putting down. My husband found me reading this book set on my kitchen island this weekend while I was cooking dinner. It was so good that I couldn't waste a minute while watching our meal cooking that I would snatch any moment I could to read this book. I was sad to go to work yesterday as I wanted to stay immersed in the story dreaming of the cliffs of Ireland and what would happen to the characters. I had a pretty crummy day today due to some issues our family is dealing with and I sure wish I could have stayed home today buried under the cover with this book! 

Here are the first three paragraphs that will give you a good idea about one of the main characters:

Everyone had their own job to do on the Ryans' farm in Stoneybridge. The boys helped their father in the fields, mending fences, bringing the cows back to be milked, digging drills of potatoes; Mary fed the calves, Kathleen baked the bread and Geraldine did the hens. 

Not that they ever called her Geraldine, she was Chicky as far back as anyone could remember. A serious little girl pouring out meal for the baby chickens or collecting the fresh eggs each day, always saying 'chuck, chuck, chuck' soothingly into the feathers as she worked. Chicky had names for all the hens, and no one could tell her when one had been taken to provide a Sunday lunch. They always pretended it was a Shop Chicken, but Chicky always knew.

Stoneybridge was a West of Ireland paradise for children during the summer, but the summer was short and most of the time it was wet and wild and lonely on the Atlantic coast. Still, there were caves to explore, cliffs to climb, birds' nests to discover and wild sheep with great curly horns to investigate. And then there was Stone House. Chicky loved to play in the huge overgrown garden. Sometimes the Miss Sheedys, three sisters who owned the house, and were ancient, let her play at dressing up in their old clothes

What do you think? Would you keep on reading 

or move on to something else?