It rips my life away, but it’s a great escape…

I HAD A SPOT OF LUCK the other day – I caught a cold.

It wasn’t so bad a cold, just bad enough to stop me working.

And I got it on a sunny day, meaning I could sit in the garden with a book.

The book I had to sit in the garden with – Warlight, by Michael Ondaatje – was a very good one. 

Which meant I could sit in the garden in the sun with a very good book and read all day.

I told you I was lucky. Because what my cold had given me was the certainty that I would now be happy for the day. Not so shabby, eh?

It’s not an exaggeration for me to state that I would find this life much, much harder without books. So far, they have been one of my few truly reliable sources of happiness in this world and, since I first learned to read, my constant and true companions.

Continue reading “Head Stuck In A Book – For 53 Years” →