I needed, after I’d finished with my appointment in Norwich, to buy some lilies on the market. These cost £2.95 for 3 or £10 for 10, which is rather sweetly Normal For Norfolk.
Afterwards, I thought was a good idea to walk back to the car park by way of Jarrolds. The department store that is, at its heart, a bookshop. Oh yes. The woman who is currently reading at least three books, one of which is War and Peace with about 1.000 pages still to go, who bought nineteen second-hand books on Saturday and hasn’t had a chance to start any of them, the same lass who still hasn’t read yesterday’s papers, let alone start on today’s – and why do I *need* two newspapers a day anyway?- yes, this is the very person who found herself irresistably drawn to buy yet three more books.
I didn’t sleep much last night. I suddenly started to worry about all the things I have left undone which I ought to have done, and it occupied my mind rather a lot. I have a moderately free afternoon now, so can get on with some of them. Of course, by ‘free’, I mean that I haven’t anything written in my diary, in the way of appointments or obligations. In fact, there is so much to do that I am in danger of forgetting vital matters. It occurs to me, sometimes, to wish that I just had a job, a home life, maybe even a social life, and didn’t take on a variety of different and mostly voluntary tasks. But I think then that I’d be too aware of my own limitations. By pretending that I can do these things, I can delude myself, and sometimes others, into believing that there is no end to my capabilities, if only I were not so busy.
I’m a fool. But it seems that is my chosen path. The primrose path to dalliance. Oh crikey, I hope that doesn’t make me a puffed and reckless libertine. Or even an ungracious pastor. Which seems to show I’ve an urge to read or see Hamlet again. Or I wouldn’t be quoting from it. Hm. Rambling.
Time for lunch. Camembert. Which will be sniffed cautiously, to see if it smells like Brie (sorry, in-joke. Jen knows what I’m talking about. As does IM, who put the information into my head in the first place).
Like love, one can never have too many books.
makes one wonder if the brie made the pastor any more gracious. certainly more reckless.
Boy, but should I be quite so promiscuous?
Jen – depends if the brie was pastorised I suppose……
Oh yes – with books you can be a total slut.
🙂