Sunday 28 October 2012

The book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man's mind can get both provocation and privacy - Edward P. Morgan

I went back to my roots this week.  To Wales.  The land of song.  And all things beautiful. 

It was good to get outside, in the sea air.  In the wind, the rain.  And in the sunshine.  Yes, the sun shone.  Intermittently, it must be said.  Chased by stormy clouds.  But it shone all the same.

It was good to be back with my family.  Talking to people rather than my cats. Although they can be easier to deal with.  I'm so out of practice being in human company 24/7.  I forgot how challenging human relations can be...

But never fear, my Kindle was near!  My dear, little Kindle. Ready to soothe my soul.  Along with a good dose of chocolate and a good deal of wine. 

Once I was en route, I forgot that I was reading an electronic device.  Even when the warnings came on board the plane.  Which was only a problem apparently on the third flight.  An officious steward informed me I could down the plane if I continued reading my Kindle during take off.  Well, he didn’t use those exact words, but the inference was there.  I chose not to challenge his theory.  However, the inconsistency in plane security did not reassure me. 
My Kindle aroused interest too.  One security man didn’t know what it was.  And needed an explanation.  I gushed.  He seemed duly impressed.  By the Kindle, not my gushing, I presume.
I read John Grisham's The Confession.  It was wonderful.  I not only forgot I was reading an electronic device, but I also forgot I was hanging around in airports, flying and having a generally tedious time.  What a great storyteller JG is.  It’s all so easy and flowing and gripping and tense.  I cried and gasped out loud.  In public.  On my own.  I know.  It was a tad disturbing.  For me as much as for anyone around me. 
Although I was not alone.  A fellow passenger, a lady of a certain age, was reading Sue Townsend beside me.  She giggled intermittently all through our flight.  She apologised.  She was truly embarrassed.  But it was the sweetest thing.  It made me giggle. And I wanted to read what she was reading...

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