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21 January 2010

Brown paper packages tied up with string

These are a few of my favourite things.

I love astrology. I read Mystic Medusa, because she is avant garde. I read Jonathan Cainer because he is grounded.

I love mountain biking. When I labour up a hill, breathing like I'm half-woman-half-rhino, it's with building anticipation of the thrilling downhill chase that must surely come.

I love reading fantasy novels. I have done ever since I read Magician. I escape into them. I know that makes me dorky, or nerdy, or something. But I don't care. I can't care, when I read authors like Patrick Rothfuss, who picks up mundanity and puts back pearls.
'It was night again. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts. The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking.'

'Old Cob tucked away his stew with the predatory efficiency of a lifetime bachelor.'
I love my life.

I experience a lot moments of true, deep joy and I am thankful.

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