So, back to reading. All I've managed to get through so far this year is a book on the impact of texting on the development of language (more interesting than it sounds!) and now I'm half way through The Hippotamus by Stephen Fry. I'm a massive Fry fan, read his autobiography (Moab is my Washpot) last year and loved it, but I'm finding this one really hard going. The characters are unremittingly unpleasant, and do horrid things to themselves and each other, and sometimes to farmyward animals. I kid you not. I've only got about 80 pages to go, so can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it's a hard slog.
The combination of no commuting time plus not enjoying my book has really slowed me up - usually I'm on a couple of books a week, and I like it that way. I need to carve some time out of the day specifically for reading but can't quite work out when - too busy in the morning and during the day, and too tired at night. But it must be done, this slow pace can't continue - Husbandio has read more books than me this year, and that's not a state of affairs which I can allow to persist! Some people get up early to go to the gym or walk the dog - perhaps I'll start setting the alarm for 6.30am to get some reading time in. New baby, oddly, will help I think - not much else to do while breastfeeding other than read or watch TV - so that's something to look forward to!
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