Read Unread

After almost two years temporarily resident with my parents, and seemingly little or no time for reading, the books are piling up.

At least two of these are archive - a niece returned the long-ago borrowed Penelope Leach after she found it when moving house; the wonderfully illustrated Children's Bible (1963) and still sadly relevant Report on Refugees (1960 - Kaye Webb and Ronald Searle) were unearthed from a box in a wardrobe here.

It disturbs me that I have so easily lost the small habit of reading I once had. I think I'll sort it into a less random arrangement and see if that helps.