I was reading Reading the OED over breakfast this morning, and I had this strange sort of half-epiphany, half-remembrance, and I found it fascinating. I rediscovered the fact that I have always wanted to build a staircase out of books. Stack them up, wedge them in, and build a staircase. I have no clear memories of thinking about this, but I know that this was quite an adamant desire when I was small. It's not a concept I've thought of for years and years, so it was very strange to rediscover it. It is still a very pleasing idea.
Does anyone else read during meals? I hear it's supposed to be bad for your digestion, but eating for me feels so often like a waste of time that I always like to be doing something else simultaneously.
I finished Mansfield Park yesterday evening, and I continue to marvel over Jane Austen's ability to make her main characters, no matter their faults, completely sympathetic.