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More words words words words

So, in my last blog post, I had intended to talk a bit about how reading and writing fit in to my current obsession with nourishing, but instead I got all feverish and distracted talking about my equivalent of a raging girl-crush on Kaz Cooke’s excellent volume “Real Gorgeous”.  (God, that’s such a good book. Okay, c’mon, focus.)

Now I want to go back to that original intention and talk about reading, writing and Nourish, if it’s not going to be labouring the whole “boo-hoo, I’ve been sick” motif.  If it is, um, QUICK, LOOK! Anyway, on days when I can’t eat, when everything makes me feel tired and nauseous and stupid and frustrated, words are good and nourishing. It’s pretty damned rare for me to be too unwell to read and write.  What is it about other people’s words and thoughts that make me feel like I’m being fed some glittering brain juice? Apart from the Kaz Cooke rereading binge I’ve been on (as mentioned), I’ve been rereading the Yarn Harlot’s blog archives. I love doing this: I love her blog and I love going back to, say, January 2007 and reading my way forward to the present, month-by-month. I’m pretty damn sure I’m not the only person who does this, and it’s not the only blog I’ve read/re-read this way. It’s a lot like re-reading a book, I think, if the blogger is a good writer.

I sometimes think of rereading and reading as two completely separate activities — I’m pretty sure my brain works differently, depending on whether or not I can remember reading the stuff before (note that careful distinction about remembering). Apart from rereading some old-beloveds, I’ve been making friends with new ones, too: I’ve just started Michael Pollan’s “The Omnivore’s Dilemma”, which is really interesting and really well-written and I’ve finished Margaret Atwood’s “Alias Grace”, which was great, exciting, involving, and makes me want to try some of Atwood’s other stuff. I’ve also just finished “Water for Elephants”, a novel about a vet who joins a travelling circus — good, fast-moving, plot-focused, and pretty good fun, but not really life-altering.

I love being able to knit and read at the same time.  I have enough trouble putting knitting aside to write, and I can only imagine that if I had to put it aside to read as well, I’d never get anything read at all.  Or never get anything knit. Or vacillate wildly between the two extremes and worry about it.  Ah, words.

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