Reviving a Blog

... is not so easy though it is gratifying to have renewed contact with some favourite followers and see that the statistics have changed from Nil Nil Nil to ... well , they have changed and people are looking again .

Somehow I find it harder to write though , to find the words . Not much is different about my life- my Day Job is endlessly fascinating, I fit that around the cat minding and family life and the occasional trot round several local fields when the dog can be coaxed away from the waterbed and her beloved sofa .

My own cats are increasingly proprietorial , in particular the elderly and formerly canterkerous Kitty who mellows with age and now likes to perch on the edge of my armchair if I am laptoppping it , or right on top of me if I have a book or the kindle in place . How she loves the kindle .. one more piece of technology for her to puzzle over and stare at and stretch a paw towards until finally she copies me in pressing the Turn Page button to see if she can achieve the same effect . Cats are such a delight. If we could only agree a signal between us about co operation ... I've finished the page now Kitts , we can turn now . But that would spoil the fun .

The rest of my time this week has been endless listening to the rain in the Rafters Room . And of course my Books ..
I was awake at four am this morning and decided to indulge my desire to read . I finished The Hours ( Michael Cunningham ) and started Joan Didion's bereavement memoir about which I had read so much that was positive when it first came out .
Recently I have been following a new anti migraine strategy of not allowing myself to read during the night but - the rain was falling on the roof and it sounded so good and the book was so interesting when I fell asleep that I just couldnt resist and with the prospect of no work and an early catminding start followed by a garage trip to have the car serviced I knew I could afford to be dozing today if need be.
An amazing book set in Los Angeles and therefore in my head connecting with my love of Six Feet Under.
A Twitter Pal asks if I never read happy books and that set me thinking . I like happy books but , is it the case that more books have sad content than happy? Or is that just me . I asked her for some recommendations and she suggested Terry Pratchett , not an author I have read though ( and maybe this does say something about me ) I have watched a documentary about his Alzheimers and a trip he made to look at care facilities with his PA for his future potential care needs . And not a very happy thing  that was either. He recently made a documentar on assisted suicide but I didnt see that . perhaps I was watching something happier on another channel? Or maybe lying down in a darkened room with a migraine?)
So if anyone has any recommended happy books Id be glad to hear of them. Really . And I promise to read them .
Meanwhile , despite the lovely brightsunshine that promised this morning , looks like we have rain again ...