I know I shouldn't have done it, but I just couldn't help myself. My butterfly mind has already engaged me in more than a year's worth of reading projects, but what's one more book amongst friends? We don't have an independent bookshop in Lancaster, so the literary smorgasbord of Fred Holdsworth's bookshop in Ambleside was irresistible. Briefly distracted by a couple of biographies of the Lakeland poets, I ultimately settled on Howards End is on the Landing by Susan Hill.
I've only read a chapter and a half, but I think I'm going to like it. Based on a year's reading of forgotten books, this is part memoir, part meditation on the books that she's enjoyed and those that she'd never read, but had sat on her bookshelves for many years. I like Hill's style of writing. Already I feel like I'm sitting in her Small Dark Den, opening that first book with a sense of sweet anticipation.
I'm home alone this evening (something that rarely happens). I shall lock the doors, slip into my pyjamas and pour a glass of rosé. There will be no Sky Sports or talk of Pokemon, just the pleasure of losing myself in another fine book.