The skinny portion is visiting his sister so I am home alone. This means that after the needs of the cats, the birds and the fish have been met I can suit myself. Luxury.
We are also in the middle of a heat wave, so suiting myself has meant hunkering down and reading. Also sleeping.
I was given many most excellent books for Christmas and indulged myself shamefully and bought nearly forty more between Christmas and New Year when the book stall at my local shopping centre closed. How I will miss that book store. She had a wonderful collection at very affordable prices. Which she further discounted for me (probably because I bought so many).
When you laugh before you have completed the first paragraph of a book it has to be a good sign.
'It is neither flat nor truly hilly, but gently rolling, its patchwork curves spread and rounded like the breasts of huge, reclining, naked women. Landscapes are best not likened to men, as occasional pylons can then cause embarrassment.'
And it lived up to its early promise. Not literature by any means - but fun.
I am currently gobbling two of my Christmas books.
This book was given to me to further indulge my Mitford obsession. The Duchess of Devonshire is the last surviving Mitford sister and, while I suspect I would have little in common with her (quite apart from the obvious class and wealth divisions) she is fascinating. Not likeable precisely, but fascinating.
This book is a collection of her occasional writings - mostly vignettes.
'I have reached the stage in life when I wake up earlier and earlier in the mornings. The wait till breakfast time has forced me to put a kettle and toaster in my room, so I can help myself to their merciful productions whenever I like. I advise all early wakers who have fallen for this plan to buy a clock with a minute and second hand of immediately recognisable lengths, or you may have my disappointing experience of last week. Waking at 6 a.m., I made and ate my breakfast, only to discover that the clock's similar-looking hands had played a trick on me, and it was in fact only 12.30 a.m. Too early even for me, but too late to pretend I hadn't had breakfast.'
I laughed, but did think that a digital clock would solve her problem.
The other Christmas book of the moment is very different.
The author, Fiona Houston, was apparently in the habit of denouncing our modern diets and was prone to ranting about the evils of supermarkets. She said that people in Scotland were better fed at the end of the eighteenth century than they are now. She admits herself that she was becoming a bit of a bore on the subject when someone called her bluff and dared her to try living as they did at that time.
So she decided she would. And that she would do so for a calendar year, to experience 'the realities of all seasons'. I haven't got very far, but am thoroughly enjoying her diary - complete with some recipes that I will certainly try.
Matters not related to reading: It appears likely that in early February the skinny one will have the first of two operations which are needed to reverse the ileostomy he currently endures. This is the 'big one' to repair and re-join his bowel. If all goes well three months later the ileostomy will be reversed and he will be returned to a bag-free state. Exactly what he/we went through unsuccessfully last year. He is gung-ho. I am worried. I imagine (but have not been told) that his sister will come to stay with me again. He is a truly rotten convalescent at the best of times and I am so not looking forward to this (while understanding completely why he has agreed to the surgeries).
I have just started a new medication to reduce the pain which has been waking me up shrieking at night for longer than I care to remember. So far on the pain front it has made a HUGE difference (and about time too). The trade-off is low level nausea (most of the time) and headaches (ditto). So far it is worth it - but I am very glad to have my home alone time to come to terms with it. I also intend to get my relaxation in while I can to prepare me for the ugly months to come.
While he is in hospital and I have a house-guest I will be very much a fly-in, fly-out blogger. And I know from my experiences last year how much I will miss you all.
