What am I thinking?

I'm probably not, I suppose. 
I'm a mum, I have a house to tend to, and a garden to neglect plant. Cats to care for and a toddler to raise. A partner to love and spend time with.

So what do I do? I turn a blind eye to the housework, I let the garden grow until my lovely mum sweeps in, tutting and muttering to prune and plant and lecture. My cats have to beg for attention and my lovely daughter has developed a particularly piercing "Mum!" The man-being fends for himself (and a lovely job he does too). 

Why? Because I love to read. 
I devour books. A book is not just a collection of words- it's a world. A universe. An escape, a journey, an adventure. The feel of a crisp new paperback, the smell of an ancient book, unearthed at a book exchange. The sensation as you research in a library, amongst old, venerable tomes and you find pages that are yet uncut, knowing yourself to be the first, the very first person to ever set eyes on the knowledge contained within. 

They are my passion. My wonderful partner has started putting aside money to turn our third bedroom into a small library, with floor to ceiling bookcases, a day bed and recliner, decadent curtains and wooden floors. He's even promised me a brass ceiling fan. It will be my haven. 
Hey, he has his shed! 

I intend this blog to be mainly about the books I read and the places I go in them. I intend to complete the 2013 Historical Reading Challenge at 'Ancient History' level. I suppose I'll mention my cats, daughter and partner, but this isn't about them. 

It's about the books.