- A Conspiracy of Kings, by Megan Whalen Turner.
- The Act of Roger Murgatroyd, by Gilbert Adair.
- A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens.
- The Christmas Mystery, by Jostein Gaarder.
- The Maltese Falcon, by Dashiell Hammett.
Yes, that may or may not be the third time I read A Conspiracy of Kings this year. It’s just so good. And for the grand list of books read in 2010, may I direct your attention: here.
It somewhat feels as though 2011 has been trying to sneak up on me: I’ve lost track of days somewhat being on holiday with the Dimerys + Kerrys, and we won’t be returning back up to Scotland until after the new year. It’s refreshing to wake up each morning and look out the window to see trees and the green of growing things, for it is so damp here that most things have a thin layer of moss growing on them: trees and dry stone walls alike. The fog has been thick across the moor, and on the slopes of the Pennine hills the fog clings to the tips of the tree branches, settling into pools deep in the valleys. Today we went to ride the steam train in Haworth: we drank tea in our carriage, the windows frosted over, the tracks went clickety clack beneath us and the steam streamed past in billows. At each station the guard would blow his whistle twice, and at the second time Charlie exclaimed, ‘Again!’ I don’t think I had quite as much fun as Charlie did, but I did enjoy myself indeed.
As for the new year, I’ve got Plans for it. It’s going to be a Prime year, I can tell you that.