I had originally thought that I would use this summer break (although winter at home...) to pick up a new hobby or two, read lots of books, visit with friends, and explore Melbourne some more. While I have managed some of that, I underestimated how tired I would be when I arrived home. While I have been reading, cooking and seeing some friends, a great deal of my time is spent on the couch or in bed, either asleep or just lying awake and trying to calm down my whirring brain and thoughts. I am enjoying myself immensely, however, and thought I'd share a little of what I've been up to here. A little itty-bitty diary if you will.
This week the weather has been grey and dreary, not ideal for getting out and about, but perfect for curling up on the sofa with a good book. So today, that's exactly what I had planned to do. I got as far as wrapping myself up like a blanket burrito, and after that I was so sleepy I never got around to opening my book. The rain was tap-tapping away on the window and the whole house was filled with a sense of tranquility. I was asleep within seconds.
The book I had planned to read is Outlander by Diana Gabaldon: a 900-page feast of a novel, and I'm nearly halfway through and loving it. I had watched the first season of Outlander on Netflix before picking up the novel, so I'm enjoying the same story again with much more detail and perspective. It really is a fantastic read and I would highly recommend it. If you love watching Game of Thrones and/or reading historical fiction, it would be right up your alley. Sometimes with a novel of that length, I can get a little bit overwhelmed by all the reading to do and end up doing nothing, which is a hopeless excuse. So I'm slowly making my way through it, and loving it. Next on my shelf is The Light Between Oceans by M. L. Stedman, but I'm also thinking about The Rosie Effect by Graeme Simsion (I adored the first Don Tillman novel). But really, who knows... I may well just re-read Jane Eyre for the umpteenth time.
The other day I was out walking, and looked up to see a beautiful leaf fall from an oak tree. Perhaps it was my mood on that particular day, or maybe I was just exhausted, but for whatever reason I started to tear up and I'm not really sure why. The rest of the day I kept thinking about how many leaves there are in the world, and how many people/lives/stories exist at once and how many of them go untold. Simultaneously scary and beautiful, I think. In my opinion the best stories are those that go untold, and often this thought is so overwhelming that I need to sit down and/or take a nap. I don't know if that's just me... I feel a little vulnerable if the world as it is can have that big an impact on me, but in a way I suppose that thinking all the time does have its downsides... what do you think?
x B
