I've spent the last couple of days reading. It usually takes me a week or so to totally wind down from work before I can spend days (and nights) just reading. And that's what I'm doing now and it's lovely. I just realised last night that reading is happiness for me. When I read feel happy and relaxed with an open and free mind.
I started my reading frenzy with finally finishing off Farewell to the East End. Jennifer Worth's last book about midwives in the East End and Docklands in the 50's. Amazing stories about amazing people.
Next in my big pile of books was The kill call by Stephen Booth. A crime story with detectives Fry and Cooper in the Peak District. I've read almost all of Booth's books about Fry and Cooper, but still somehow I can't decided if I like them or not. They are just indifferent.
Needing something more light I then continued with Sheila Hancook's Just me. I really liked her book about her life with John Thaw and this book about her life after Thaw's death was very good as well. A celebration to life. Life will never be the same when someone dies, but you learn to live with it and find new ways and interests. Because you can do it. By yourself or with friends.
I than went on to reading a book I've heard a lot about - Netherland by Jospeh O'Neill. I think even President Obama said in an interview that he was reading it. A Dutch man finds himself alone in New York post 9/11 when his wife and son move back to London. It all about finding yourself, being a lover, husband and father and to understand life and those things we can't do anything about.
Still in thoughts from Netherland I went on to reading The other hand by Chris Cleave last night. The design of the book (a child standing in the sunset on a beach as a wave roll in) and back page synopsis "We don't want to tell you what happens in the this book... This is the story of two women. Their lives collide one fateful day..." gives you you rather high expectations and the first chapters are mesmerizing. Little Bee from Nigeria and Sarah from Kingston-upon-Thames. Two different views on England and two stories that comes together very nicely.
Tonight (or maybe even sooner I hope) I will start reading the The elegance of the hedgehog by Muriel Barbery, which I hopefully will find as enchanting as everybody else. It might even generate a separate blog post. We'll see.