Reading Again

In the middle of the night I finished Shonagh Koea's memoir and searched for ages on my VRS to find a new book to read. Eventually I settled on Last Summer in Arcadia which is narrated by someone with an amazing Irish accent. Advertised as being about infidelity, strength and what makes us happy, it is written around three couples going for a holiday in Southern France, their suspicions of marital infidelity and all the mores that working together suggests. I have only listened to a couple of chapters but will hopefully enjoy this light novel. I have a large pile of CD's from the RNZFB sitting on my desk to transfer onto my VRS, another job to do before lunch.
  
We have a television programme here in New Zealand called 'Family Secret' in which a researcher, David Lomas, attempts to unravel family stories, lost belongings, name mysteries and similar. Last night he went in search of a pair of bagpipes returned from WW1 to the same country district my Great Great Grandparents lived in. Using my archival skills I have tracked down the archivist shown in the programme and hope to hear that she has some memorabilia of my family.

I am still reading The Happiness Project  which offers many useful suggestions for uncluttering your life, accepting people, writing blogs and caring about trying to remain positive and in the moment. One suggestion she offered was to burn a beautifully scented candle in the evening, an idea I have grasped at and this morning purchased a pear and ginger scented candle. The We Love Memoirs Facebook page offers lots of free kindle books so I am busy trying to keep up with all the interesting suggestions on offer.

My dining table is covered in books on watercolour painting, art journaling, beautiful recipe books, a journey through French markets and the Healthy Food Guide. Oh dear, this morning I purchased a small piece of topside roast for dinner, probably not very healthy so will have to add lots of vegetables.

Jay is enjoying the lovely sunny days we have been having, lying on my violets and other ground cover turning the soil into a hard caked pan of groaning earth. I need to move him but cannot bear to see him slink into the house determined not to upset me again.