[Sundae]

So many to catch you up on...
And more to come, as my recent case worker in the nuthouse got my library fines cancelled and I'm allowed to take books out again. In the mean time a guardian angel has been supplying me with the odd book here and there. And when I say here and there I mean on my doormat. Regularly.

Last week I read Elizabeth Is Missing by Emma Healey and The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins.
Both were chosen by me as having a connection with my life. Neither were perfect but both absorbing and crept into my dreams.
Elizabeth is written from the POV of a lady with dementia. Very touching, and a unique "voice". I've gifted it to Mum. Ostensibly a detective story, it is more about the past and how it bleeds into the future, especially in the mind of people who can't hold onto new memories.

The Girl is written from the POV of an alcoholic woman. As with the above, it is something that the plot revolves around, but it still has it's own engaging narrative outside of that. Ostensibly a crime story it is more about how you surrender control when you can no longer control your drinking.

I wouldn't take either of them to a desert island, but I feel I've gained something from reading both.

Better than both, but read at a more galloping pace were two hack books.
Hack in both meanings (journalist and horse riding).
Carruthers kindly sent them to me and I think was slightly alarmed at how quickly I gobbled them up.
They were written by a fellow Bucks resident and horse lover, Dylan Winter, and document his riding adventures. The first (which I read second) was along the Wales/ England border. It was a perfect match for me, being a closet Welsh lover. In fact I'd been boring poor Carr on the subject of Caer Idris when he sent it to me. It's replete with wonderful anecdotes and even made me think about liking horses, which Carr does naturally.

The second came about in a similar way, in that we'd been talking about the American North West. Y'all know how I love to travel-dream. Dylan Winter lived the dream, riding two horses along the Oregon Trail - barring illness, cast shoes, spilt hooves and accidents. He's not Bill Bryson, because only Bill Bryson is, but he doesn't try to be and writes in a casual laid back honest way. And he loves the Merkins, which speaks in his favour. It was almost as good as being there, except it only lasted two nights because it was too good to put down. And I didn't get saddle sores, but then I didn't get the yummy food either.

Oh the books were A Hack in the Borders and A Hack Goes West respectively.