Sunny Monday

I'm embracing my Kindle and buying books to read, rather than wasting my life on YouTube. I just can't spend the rest of my life mindlessly scrolling YouTube for something interesting. I almost feel like I become part of the problem when I continue to do that. It just adds to that uncomfortable suspicion that I have really wasted my life.

I have finished One Thousand Miles from Care, so it is time for something new to read. The problem with Kindle is that there is no book shop into which to wandered to peruse the colourful titles on the shelf.

So, I typed in Tim Winton, I had just read an article in the Guardian by him about climate change. I decided on Eyre a novel by him that is a few years old now.

I also typed in Sam Shepard, Christos Tsiolkas, and Patricia Highsmith. My list of authors has become a little rusty with me having been hijacked by online news/platforms over the last few years.

I struggle a little to think of more, all the time ignoring the two huge bookcases of novels I have read in front of me. Duh!

I think of Bridget O'Connor and that fabulous book of short stories Here Comes John, about which I was so excited only to discover she had died quite young of breast cancer. I typed her name in anyway. There is another collection of her short stories, but it reads like it is compiled from previous collections and not new stories as such. I'll have to research that a little more.

Anyway, I'm now sitting at my work desk enjoying a little Tim Winton, feet up on a footstool, having got all my work done. Otto is asleep on the couch behind me. The sun shining in through the window. Bruno is through the atrium, sleeping next to the ottoman in the lounge room looking in my direction, well, he would be if his eyes were open. He rolls over to realign himself with the patch of morning sun on the carpet coming in through the window which had moved with the passing morning.