Reading is good

I have always been a voracious reader. Anything in reach will be read even if it is not interesting. Dining is normally multi-tasking with a book or newspaper. Preferred genres are science fiction, historical biographies (as in, dead more than 100 years), science non-fiction, single topic books (as in, Salt), Edith Wharton and suchlike. As someone who has a lot of books, many of which she has re-read, that take up two and a half rooms in her house, I have always harbored the fantasy that I could be a writer. However, as this blog bears witness, I write quite infrequently. So I will aim to write more often, and to branch out from the culinary delights that are oft my subjects.

So I will today relate my love for the feline members of the household. We are down to 4 (from a high of 10-12, depending on how you count). It feels empty sometimes, when we remember the crowd that we had once. We have been fortunate to share many years with our companions, with the majority passing away at advanced old ages. So who is left? A petite, q-tip fetching, long haired black and white girl; a three-legged all-orange tabby boy; a playful all-grey tabby boy; and the old orange tabby curmudgeon who came with the farm and now leads his retired life of leisure indoors. It feels sad to relate that setting out their meals does not anymore require wading through a sea of fur; yet the nightimes still finds us trapped in positions in bed where we do not wish to disturb our sleeping buddies.