A Good Read

There are some really positive things about being single.Especially if you are lucky enough like me to be to be living in a luxury apartment in Thailand until the UK throws off winters grips.

I “reside” in a two bedroom,two bathroom apartment.That means I don’t just have one cleaning lady,I have two.They come with the place.

Monday morning 0900  is my allocated time,which means anything  between nine and ten o’clock.That is the only thing in my agenda the whole week.

Invitations are all very last minute so there is no need to note those.

In this paradise I have time to call my own,and can read again without getting a bad conscience because I should be doing some household chore or cooking dinner.

Not that you can attempt any heavy literature in this heat, so I enjoy just a good book that can also accompany me to the beach or down to the pool.

I have now discovered Jeffrey Archer who fits my requirements perfectly.I know he has been around for quite a while but if you haven’t read anything by him and need a book for a long journey or holiday he is your man.

 

Last week I finished “Paths of Glory”,a story about George Mallory,the English mountaineer that led the first attempt to climb Everest.
Based on fact it poses the question of whether history should be rewritten.
It is exciting,interesting and yet most amusing reading, written in a W.Somerset Maugham style,and in fact at times it is difficult to say who the writer is.

Now I have advanced to a collection of short stories by Archer.”A Twist in the Tale” Just as entertaining but enabling you to get up and do things between them.

The Most Dangerous Dog

Solomon,was his name and he had big brown eyes but I still didn’t like him.Maybe it was because I was going on seven years old and I felt his bare anatomy not very nice, especially as he peed over the carpet when he got excited. A brown and black shorthaired Dachshund or sausage dog as a lot of people called them then.

He belonged to my Aunt Molly.She wasn’t really my Aunt,just a good friend of my Mothers.

I thought her very special as she would go barefoot in her shoes or even sandals in the middle of winter. My Mother said it was because she served in the Royal Air Force in India during the war, and was forced to wear heavy shoes and stockings in the heat.

Sometimes when my Mother was working I was sent to Auntie Molly’s. She always made fried egg and delicious chips for lunch,which I can’t remember ever having at home.

In the afternoons we would go for long walks in the Surrey countryside,and she would tell me stories from the books she had read.

She loved books, and reading, and passed this passion on to me.

At Christmas and on my Birthday I always received some classic of literature all very much to old for me,but I read them just the same.

I will always be thankful for what she taught me,and when I eat chips I often think of her. But I never really liked her dog.Not that I was afraid of him,he was just so yappy and as I said liable to wet over your feet.

Today I saw a picture of Solomon in the paper. It wasn’t him of course just one like him.

According to a study by the University of Pensylvania on which is the most agressive dog, it isn’t the Pitbull Terrier,it isn’t the German Shepherd,but it is Aunty Molly’s four legged friend Solomon.

Dachshunds are the most likely to bite,and they won by a wide margin.

Feelings are never wrong.