Books

I’m not all about food.
I like cats and gin too.
I am partial to the odd (cough cough) book as well.
Am I a fair-weathered book friend?
Are you?
Hmmm.
I often ponder this.
I think about books a lot, in many contexts.
I like books.
Have I ever thought you, well, more importantly, myself, could have too many?
No, that’s a very ugly thought to have and one I could never entertain.
It’s fair to say; I would sell you and your mate to get books.
Possibly Teddy, too, on a bad day!  Not the cats, though, they are safe, plus they like sleeping on the books, like book guardians.

A bit of a book addict.

I have piles all over my house. I used to have them on the floor until the great basement flood of 2020, and I lost about 100 or so.
I have bookcases and shelves, but I have piles too.
I like the piles; they are usually books I want to keep close.
Books I cannot bear to put on the shelf; it’s like I feel I have betrayed them.
Even when the author has pissed me off, or I have decided, Nah, they can’t cook.

Or perhaps a great hype or old find that is not what I thought.
Some might be new; some are old; some have been in a pile for ages.
Some are new and finding their place.
It’s like a jostling to develop a hierarchy.

I have a perverse leaning and preference for food type books.
HA!! I especially like food ingredient encyclopedias about the history of food recipes with stories.
I knew you were thinking with has this to do with cooking schools, food and eating?