Reading conundrum

I always worry, when going away for a few days, how many books to take. I never get it right. I'm probably here in rural Shropshire for 3-4 days, so I thought 3 biggish books should be enough. Then I went to bed at 12.30 last night thinking I'd read a few pages of Mark Radcliffe's book. 2 hours later I'd finished it. Even though it's randomly unstructured and not particularly profound (Pooterish?), Radcliffe's essential niceness shines through, so it was worth reading. So that leaves two books (Kim Stanley Robinson's The Years of Rice and Salt and J. G. Farrell's Troubles, unless I rush out to the booksellers tomorrow. Perhaps I shall.

Oops, I Did It Again

Oops. I went out to buy a birthday card and accidentally bought 4 more books: Ackroyd's retelling of The Canterbury Tales, Mark Steel's What's Going On?, Mark Radcliffe's Thank You For The Days (I interviewed him once - what an incredibly decent, kind man) and Madresfield: The Real Brideshead, because I know the area and quite like some of Waugh's work.

Meanwhile, while I buy books and write essays on blended learning, my heart's in London, where comrades are expending their energy in ineffectual but fun ways.