Last week I awarded myself "one of those days".
We live in an old cottage that used to be two but has been made into one and we have sympathetically (we hope) built on various larger rooms as the original house has small, cottage-sized rooms that are cosy but not spacious.Built for farm workers in the late 1800's so really two up/two down was considered plenty of space for large families.
Bookhound designed (yes he designs and draws as well as cooks and he can slate a roof) a good sized sitting room and then off that, a library/study/ which looks out on three sides to the garden and fields and this is where we spend most of our days.But occasionally, on a grey, misty winter's afternoon all I want to do is light the fire, the one that goes for hours on two logs, in our cosy old sitting room (now a bit of a den for GK and K and friends) and curl up with books and tea and scones.Nice little cloam oven too.
No scones, couldn't be bothered, but lashings of tea and warmth.One day when they all finally clear out, that end of the house will make a perfect and gorgeous little holiday cottage.
It's not long before one of these pads in and curls up next to you and then it's just a case of opening a book and disappearing inside. On this trip I have been to Iceland, Waterloo station and Nebraska courtesy of blog-friend recommends.
With thanks to Adele yet again (please stop it Adele) for the recommend on the Arnaldur Indridason.Silence of the Grave has me completely reeled in and I've never been to Iceland with my reading before, so it's all a new venture especially the names.
Julie has MADE me read The Necropolis Railway by Andrew Martin. I've started and stopped it twice already with a bout of terminal train-itis but am too frightened sensible to tell her that, so this time I'm persevering and it's paying off a bit but I'm still uncertain. Some books just keep you in the dark for that few pages too long and it's easy to give up, but Julie has been very insistent about this and who am I to admit defeat.
Then Jonathan at Bookseller Crow suggested I would like and should read You Remind Me of Me by Dan Chaon and so I called his bluff and ordered a copy from him. Sadly he only had the shop window sun-faded copy left in stock so he sent it gratis and now I feel awful that his kids are walking round with no shoes on, barefoot in this freezing cold weather while I sit in front of a roaring woodburner so the least I can do is read it, heart it and send you all round there to buy it.
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