Barbara Pym would have been 100 years old today. She has become one of my favorite authors, with whom I connect at some very inner level. My great and great-great grandparents lived in the Oxfordshire area of England, but left there in the late 1800s to make a new life in the U.S.  As I read Miss Pym’s work, I make connections with landscape and inner landscape, with the ordinary people of her stories living their everyday lives, and I feel a kinship…that she is one of my aunties, to be dearly loved for her kind and thoughtful, caring, wickedly insightful observations of the human spirit. A toast to a wonderful writer, who left us her words and wisdom, but left us too soon…