My brother Ken and I compose from a memory a dish from our childhood It is middle eastern in origin, spicy but mild. It consists of freshly scrambled eggs, cubes of potato, onion and mint stirred up together. Our taste buds tell us that we are on the right lines. Lunch becomes an excursion into nostalgia. Mint we decide is the most significant ingredient in determining the remembered flavour.
This morning I oversleep. Not good idea. I am woken by the telephone. It takes me a long time to recover. But I do recover by sitting still and calm in my study and examining the spines of my books. Why is this so satisfying? Perhaps it because tranches of the books' contents comes to me in soothing waves.