lies, damned lies and books

I've just updated postwodehouse.com, so you can go and read all about my embarrassing incident while staggering to Oxford Circus tube last night, after a lovely evening in the Glassblower celebrating haggisthesecond's new job. I am a terrible liar. I don't think I can bear to go into it here.

I've cancelled the kid who was going "gimme free half hour! gimme! Okay, I'll sulk if you won't!" Suddenly I'm not dreading Wednesdays any more. Should have done that ages ago.

Currently devouring Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. All the reviews when it first came out said it was a sort of cerebral puzzle with no heart. They are so wrong. (Plus the middle of it contains a large chunk of what I can only describe as sci-fi. It gives me hope for my own stuff.)

And I think it's finally spring. I can smell it.