BOOKISH BINGE

Photo via here.

I readily submit to you, dear friends, a confession. I am an addict. I am obsessed with books. I simply cannot stop acquiring them. Bookstores, peddlers and pushers of all my desires, must be wholly avoided at times. I once stayed at the Library Hotel in NYC and spent an entire evening with my nose planted in every aged volume, submerging myself in the aroma of weathered paper. The snap of a spine and crackle of a translucent cover performed a symphony varying in depth depending on the heft of each tome.

Ritually, in that lull between Christmas day and the New Year, I find myself ambling along the aisles of my nearest book retailer. Arms weighted with anthologies to autobiographies, hours escape the day, pecuniary concerns have fled, and I ultimately saunter out accompanied by fog of utter ecstasy.

This year a list will chaperone me.

1. This Domino Book.

Yes, THAT book. Yes, I’m the last person on the planet to purchase it. I also have never seen Titanic, but that’s more out of obstinacy than any other influence.

On recommendation from Lisa Borgnes Giramonti at A Bloomsbury Life:

2. Punch

3. A Perfectly Kept House Is The Sign Of A Misspent Life

The latter is an attempt to relax my rigid Virgoan deportment.

4. And anything by Beverley Nichols

These should keep me occupied until February, when the cycle invariably repeats itself.

What, dear reader, is your unconquerable addiction?

A CHRISTMAS WISH

This would be the view from our front door.

This holiday, I have a Christmas wish, one whose fate will be revealed months from now. I posted earlier this year about wanting a home with a few, non-negotiable features. Since that post, BTG and I discovered a darling rambler, nestled within a diminutive forest, yet have delayed acting upon our desires. Fed up with abrasive conditions of our current locale, the bucolic charms of this gem with a mountain view beckons. Unfortunately the home is leased for six months as of a week ago. The sting from my own procrastination is palpable. I can already envision the large bay window lit from within, welcoming us home every evening. Thankfully, my inquiry was welcomed warmly and my wish for 2011, dear reader, is to have the honor to call this jewel ensconced within the trees home.

What is your Christmas wish?

WEEKEND MISCELLANY

My spartan breakfast this morning.

‘Tis the season of mirthful gourmandizing. There will be a collection of merrymakers at twilight tomorrow. All other unclaimed moments will be flurry of wrapping, knotting, stirring, and kneading. At some point I will squeeze in some stretching, breathing and maybe a plié or two.

What, dear reader, will occupy your time this weekend?

BRAND NEW DAY

It has been quite some time since I’ve posted here and even longer than that since I’ve written anything substantial. Now comfortable with providing an accurate rather than falsely generalized assessment of this year thus far, I can attest I’ve had better. In fact, 2009 was pretty fantastic! I found a new city, a new income and, most importantly, a new love. It appears as if 2010 was the payment, due upon receipt, for the cache of emotional gold granted to me last year.

Amid the customary work turbulence, steady and omnipresent, I lost a best friend and welcomed a new one. BTG and I planted a seed and cultivated its tender buds while attempting to quell our impatience in its unhurried germination. I’ve labored far too strenuously on others’ projects and neglected my own, this online journal included.

Through the murk, though, I’ve bloomed. I’m more inspired. You may have noticed a change in decor around these parts, one which is not merely superficial. I’ve come to accept that those tremendously gloomy events in life will always come knocking. The most effective means of mitigating their effects is to relish the ephemeral bits of life which give you great pleasure, even if they're found at the bottom of a soup pot. I hope to share those moments with you, dear reader, right here.

MT

Photo courtesy of Nigel Slater.