I'm in love (and always will be)

With books.

My long friendship with books came to a screeching halt when I moved in with H. It was not something we could do together. Unless you count me reciting what I just read to him! That was redundancy I couldn’t handle. So I performed the cardinal sin- ignored a cherished and nurtured past for my present man.

Soon I was tempted to sneak one into my busy days. I would often find myself sitting on the toilet long after the deed was done. Marking the page with (washed) fingers, I would then relegate my ‘comrade’ to the top of the cistern. More times than I like to admit, H would call up the stairs to check on me- see if I hadn’t fainted on the bathroom floor.

This affair continued for a couple of years, although I went through much fewer books than I would’ve liked. Until now.

An hour commute to and from work each day has given me a new lease on my literary life. It’s no longer a messy 15 minute tryst in the loo. The moment I step onto the bus (and until I step out, at the right stop!) I am transported into a world concocted by the combined imagination of my current flame and mine.

So from now on, (until I move jobs!) I’ll add a postscript to my musings that express my new found camaraderie.

Presently broadening my mind is Camilla Gibbs in “Mouthing the words” – an amusing, (sometimes disconcerting) rendering of childhood – its (lack-of) innocence and vivid imagination resulting from a troubled family.