One of the many benefits of sleeping alone is that there is plenty of room in bed for books. The sheets are clean, the pillows are mine all mine, and nobody is bothered by having the light on. Lately I've been grabbing a random stack before bedtime to leaf through until I nod off. Here is my current pile
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Me got:
Don Quixote (ever so slowly sipping it in, like a rare liqueur)
Guy Ottewell's Astronomical Calendar 2005 & Astronomical Companion - astronomy in a format I can understand!!
Obsessive Genius - Marie Curie bio that is not as gripping as I had hoped
Christine's Uncle Kaz always gives me the best books:
Dawn Powell's "Angels On Toast"
"Lolly Willowes" Sylvia Townsend Warner. From the blurb: "Lolly's escape from self-effacement into a sanctuary of country green, wild flowers, Sabbaths and gentle witchcraft is superbly entertaining."
And some book of wildly-titled stories about Turkey, including, "The Turd That Was as Big as a House." Good stuff. I make the Muppet read it to me, since he's more familiar with the strange names of that region (he's from Israel).
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