Over on The Feminist Breeder (do you read this blog, by the way? You absolutely must) I was reading about a nurse-in. You can read the full story there, but basically, a man threw a mother out of his shop; not because she was shoplifting, or drunk, or throwing paint at his merchandise; but because she was DUH DUH DUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHH breastfeeding. This got reported and a lot of people went to protest by all taking their babies and proudly breastfeeding them in his shop. Good on you ladies. (It seems like nurse-ins are a thing? I had not heard of them before.)

Anyway my favourite part of this story is how The Feminist Breeder patiently explained that it is actually illegal in the US to discriminate against women like this. As she puts it ‘the guy says “But CHRISTIANS come in here!” and I said “JESUS WAS BREASTFED”.’

So I went to church this morning and the baby needed feeding and all I could think was “But CHRISTIANS come in here!” I have breastfed in the front of a mini, in the back of a mini, in a golf club, in more pubs than I should really count, in a crematorium car park, in a petrol station car park….in more or less every car park within a fifty mile radius, to be honest. There is probably not a lorry driver in the land who hasn’t had seen more than he bargained for.

Nevertheless, I did feel like a church pew was possibly a step too far (even though JESUS WAS BREASTFED…I love that). But the parish hall off to the side was absolutely fine. In fact, no fewer than four people asked me if they could get me a cup of tea. (I managed to restrain myself to one).

So there we are. Happy Sunday, Christians and breastfeeders and those who are both. And random crazy man in Illinois? I’ll have a cup of tea please.

Say, for instance, you want to read My Cousin Rachel. In the past, you would simply have gone to the library and checked it out. But now, you head for the kindle store only to find it is not available. You huff and puff about this. Of course, you STILL COULD GO TO THE LIBRARY, YOUR KINDLE HAS NOT BROKEN YOUR LEGS. But now that oddly seems like too much effort. So you don’t read it.

Or say, that you think ok, well I think I might read Great Expectations instead. You head to the Kindle store. But you notice you have to pay for it! Even though Jane Austen is free, Dickens wants your cash! (Why is this, by the way?) And even though it is eighty six pence; approximately the cost of the packet of biscuits you have scoffed, you bitterly resent this. Of course, you STILL COULD GO TO THE LIBRARY, etc, etc. But you don’t. So you don’t read it.

And then say, you want to read Moonwalking With Einstein. But this is ten whole pounds for the kindle book! When it is only £8.17 for the paperback! (And this is still a pricey paperback, I think.) And you cannot understand this discrepancy! And you fret about it for days and days and days and regularly check back in desperation because THERE MUST BE SOME MISTAKE! But there isn’t. And eventually you begrudgingly do fork out the tenner, because you actually do really want to read this. And then you wistfully think back to that eighty six pence on Mr Dickens.

You are probable a nicer, less demanding, more patient person than I am. Your kindle has probably enhanced your life without destroying your soul. How do you manage it?

In order of likeliness-to-happen, my plans are to re-read Mansfield Park (reasons why to be explained in another post) join in the Sense and Sensibility readalong with the Sleepless Reader and read some of the unpublished works.

2) Go to the Indie Lit Awards and nominate your favourite book of the year so far. Go. Go now.

3) Visit Claire or Verity so that you can play Persephone Secret Santa this yuletide (love that word). You know how with most secret Santas you end up with something you don’t want and bitterly resent having to spend the money? NOT SO WITH THIS ONE.

Happy Sunday.

So not only did I have to throw the book aside but also there was mass shower panic, because the nugget was the only one who was dressed.

Anyway this is much too much detail about my life. READATHON! You were a triumph. MY READATHON PERSONALLY! A little bit haphazard. I spent the first bit reading while fretting about my hostessing duties, the next bit in a whirlwind of the hostessing, the next bit cheating by watching X factor and going to sleep, the next bit checking in with you all in the middle of the night while feeding the baby, the next bit reading again, the final bit with Chris and Olly in the pub.

So actual reading, not so much. I enjoyed the hanging out with everyone, but I actually found the reading a little bit *eeeek how many pages can I read before I need to log on again* ie, not that relaxing. And for me reading = relaxing not reading = angst, so this was a new and unwelcome sensation. I think next time I may be a hostess and a cheerleader and let the reading slide so as not to feel overwhelmed.

I was going to fill in the meme but it’s been days and I was a rubbish participant anyway, so. I’ll just say FUN TIMES SEE YOU IN APRIL!

Readathon is a family event in my house.

See you in a few hours! Will be reading and watching the rugby world cup final in the morning. EVEN THOUGH IT IS A TRAVESTY WALES WILL NOT BE THERE DON’T GET ME STARTED.

My spooky sentence:

Blink, the unconsoled wolf-speaker, extremely loud and incredibly close in praise of savagery.

Cue bloodcurdling howls.

I can’t believe it is so early and I am already confused about what the time is and forgetting to post.

So, in this hour, I have been reading Philippa Gregory’s The Lady of the Rivers and it is predictably ludicrous and utterly enjoyable. Forsooth, readers! I may start to write only in elaborate metaphor and portentous foreshadowing.

Or I may not.

I also went for a cuddle and a few rounds of Row, Row, Row the boat with the Nugget. Then the Husband said, I think I’ll take her down the pub now. I am supposed to be letting him get on with, so I let him get on with it. Though privately I question the merits of the pub as a learning and development activity.
Pub going outfit.

I will not be posting here for the next three hours because I will be at Readathon HQ hosting the festivities. See you on the otherside!

Ok, I only had like fifty left, but still.

Elaine Showalter’s A Jury Of Her Peers, American Women Writers from Anne Bradstreet to Annie Proulx, I have finished with you. And I now feel ready to take any American women’s literature quizzes any of you may have on the shelves.

In the meantime, here is a picture of my snacks for the afternoon:

BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH yeah right. Let’s try that again.

Three is perhaps a little excessive?