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Bookworm

 At school, I remember being called a ‘bookworm.’ It didn’t bother me - in fact, I saw it as a badge of honour. I love reading, always have and always will. I read every day. I am bemused by adults who declare, with pride, that they haven’t read a book since they left school. I mean, what’s that all about, eh? What do they DO with their spare time? 

Today, the books I ordered online on Wednesday arrived in the post. Lovely, lovely books. Just looking at them and holding them makes me smile…

One fiction, three non-fiction. I’ve just finished ‘Enbury Heath’ which is another to tick off my Stella Gibbons’ list. I’ve read fifteen of her novels so far, so just over half way through her oeuvre. I’m still reading books on an introduction to classical music appreciation and printmakers who use chickens and geese as their inspirations. That’s a bit niche, that one. I started reading the second Norman Doidge one about the plasticity of the human brain, but it was a bit heavy going straight after the first one, so I’ve parked that for the moment. 

Now I have these beauties to chose from! 

Today, I had a letter writing morning, which was a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours. I also tinkered around with some story ideas because I have the urge to start a substantial writing project, now that I’ve recovered from the hoo-ha of the Much Malarkey Manor Christmas Story. 

I gave Edith Rabbit lots of green broccoli leaves from the veg beds, which she enjoyed enormously. 

I trapped my right index finger in the wood burner stove (don’t ask) and it hurt enough to bring tears to my eyes. Bambino was sympathetic, though, which was nice, so I gave him the leftover raw egg I had when I made some cheese scones to go on top of the veggie stew I made for dinner. He likes raw egg. He is a disgusting cat. 

And did you know that apparently the 1970s/80s children’s TV programme ‘Grange Hill’ is going to be made into a film? I shall only be excited if Todd Carty appears in a blonde wig and a frock to play the role of Mrs McClusky. 


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