![]() Why should she enjoy a snail? How could she look after it when she couldn’t look after herself? She couldn’t even return it to the woods. She is left bemused, wondering what on earth she is to do with it. One day a friend brings her a potted field violet on which she has purposefully put a woodland snail for Bailey. Confined to bed, she experiences a loneliness that chronic illness can bring, when friends are unsure how to be around you, and she starts slipping into a dark place in her mind, experiencing panic attacks and great despondency. ![]() She has to move from her farm house into a studio flat to be closer to help, leaving her dog and her outdoor lifestyle behind. ![]() In her 30s, Bailey contracts a debilitating neurological disorder that leaves her bedridden, barely able to sit up, let alone stand. This is one of the most enchanting books I have read a gentle, contemplative book that chronicles Elisabeth Tova Bailey’s year-long relationship with a snail. ![]()
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