the corner office

I got back to Wallingford tonight, and walked home through the Medieval Christmas festival. By the time I got there, it was a bit of a desultory affair, with few people out braving the rain. The knights in rusting armour were there, looking a little drenched, and the Hog Roast was top notch as always. It was a reminder that we've been living in Wallingford for over a year (hard to believe), and it was also a reminder that we won't be living in this character-filled town for much longer.

A lot of shops were open though, including the local Oxfam. This was a blessing, because I'd run out of books to read - the only things unread in our flat, apart from boring textbooks (that's another story), are a Wilbur Smith and something by Umberto Eco - neither of which fill me with any excitement at present.

I've given some thought to reviewing the books I read - it'd give me something to write about - but I've never found writing reviews easy - I have difficulty finding the right balance between just jabbering about what the book is about (which isn't generally interesting) and offering meaningful opinion about the book other than 'yeah alright' or 'damn good' or 'fukken boring' or the like. We shall see.