more of the same...

Another piece I started and never finished/posted. This was about three weeks ago. Stewart and Colbert are no longer on hiatus, but you could bookmark it and save it for when they are.

Colbert and Stewart are on two-week vacation and even the podcasts I listen to are on reruns at the moment. I flick through Netflix and I've watched everything I feel like watching. My shelves of DVDs are full of movies I know all the lines to. A pile of books sit on the table next to my bed that I haven't read, but books require commitment and I fear commitment at the moment. I've started two of them: the Faulkner and one of the history books. 

There are three history books in total: two mediaeval histories and one that covers the first world war. The Faulkner is The Hamlet, one of his epic tomes that covers an epic southern lineage during a time of upheaval and change, with a healthy dose of illicit distilling thrown in for good measure. One sentence in the first chapter stretches out an entire month.

There's also a cookbook. It's a favourite of mine, but that's no excuse for it to be sat next to my bed. Cookbooks belong in the kitchen; reading them in bed seems more gluttonous than eating in bed. I'll move it immediately. 

Further along the shelf next to my bed sits a Complete Works of Shakespeare. I think it's a Penguin, but the pages face me instead of the spine, so I'm just going to have to guess. It's not on the reading pile, per se, but it's on the 'always reach for pile'. The 'Essays of E B White' sits there too, always ready to dispense considered wisdom and calm thought in an emergency situation.

Being surrounded by books feels far better than being surrounded by movies. I think I might open the Faulkner.

Just a wee note - the cookbook is still on the pile next to my bed. And I didn't open the Faulkner, at the time, but I plan to this evening.