reading for pleasure

since i started reading purely for pleasure (and do not have to recommend books for a living) i've delighted in skipping from one book to another, one genre to another, one era to another. and leaving books all over the house.

this is me capturing them in their current natural habitats.

yes! just get over it. i love this book. jeez. i'm so confused by the weather (is it summer, is it winter? why am i all sunburnt? do i need a scarf?) that i need a comfort read. plus i like to think i am actually irish, not just a phoney with an irish name.

but in circle of friends, this has just happened:

clodagh decided that she would not outrage the sensitivities of knockglen, so for christmas day mass she wore a short herringbone tweed coat with a black leather belt. she wore high black boots and a black leather beret pulled down the side of her head. it would have looked really good with big chunky flashy earrings. but for christmas mass clodagh showed restraint. she was unaware that her aunt knelt with her head in her hands and asked the mother of god why a girl so good and helpful as clodagh should dress like a prostitute.

rather boring booker prize winning literary fiction hanging out with its dust jacket untucked. i'm over halfway through the sense of an ending and while the idea that events from our individual pasts, like history-book-history, can be read objectively or subjectively and that the 'truth' of our past experiences can change over time as a person grows older and changes ... while i find this interesting, the prose is actually a little bland.

leanne's launch last night was lovely. almost as freakin lovely as this brilliant, dreamy, edgy, wonderful sequel to this is shyness.
i got this stamper, made for me in spain (!) and have been wildly stamping all the books.

friends, if you have lent me books, i apologise if i have now claimed them as my own.
i do that sometimes. (usually with the evil sister's dvds).