There is poetry in the kitchen, short stories in the front room, biographies in the breakfast room and a number of other novels dotted around the house. I'm taking Marina Lewyca and her 'Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian' to bed with me at the moment as it feels more like a magazine so I don't have to concentrate too hard in the wee small hours. Thomas Hardy (The Wessex Tales) is following me about the house but I don't let him the kitchen as there are too many knives about. This is not because I cannot cope with Hardy and his gloom sodden tales, I find I need a bit of a fix from the Old Master of Valium once in a while. Unfortunately Sylvia Plath is already living in the cookhouse and one suicidal depressive is more than enough when I'm trying to rustle up a dish that will not kill anyone!
I like a bit of poetry in the kitchen, it is bite-sized after all, but Plath does my head in after a while so I make sure that I keep some favourites on the fridge. 'Still I rise' by Maya Angelou being the best and most inspirational and this sits alongside a painting by annieb an artist in St Ives (I'll post it up in a minute). Still consider myself a bit of a poetry philistine but I try hard. I would be welcoming of any recommendations.