The last of the boxes of books for the living shelves have now been unpacked and I've been reunited with all my old friends, most particularly Michael Kennedy's The Works of Ralph Vaughan Williams. The special mention is on account of the fact that this is the impending work of non-fiction on my reading list and I've been itching to get going on it. Actually I dipped into Kennedy's magisterial account extensively when I first became enamoured of the works of the greatest English composer of all, but that was a library edition. Only now do I find myself in the fortunate position of possessing a copy (bought from amazon.com on my last foray to that virtual emporium.)
This is teamed with Eleanor Catton's brilliant Booker-winning The Luminaries as my current reading. I've been making slow but steady progress through the opening segment thereof, and enjoying pretty much every sentence. It's only being super-busy that's prevented me devouring the tome at high speed.
So I'm a very happy reader indeed. Just wish I had a spare few hours here and there to wallow, but even just a bit of paddle is refreshing.