This weekend my Mum came up to visit my Nan and I stayed too, so three generations were together. I had a wonderfully relaxing time catching up on sleep, getting some exercise and enjoying being out of the hustle and bustle of London for a couple of days.
The only downside was that I managed to leave my current read, Our Spoons Came from Woolworths, by Barbara Comyns behind which left me feeling a little bereft!
I don’t like leaving a book half read unless I’m really not enjoying it (which I was) – it’s a bit like being in limbo! I lost a book once on holiday in Sri Lanka (Fangland) which ultimately got abandoned. I also lost several pages of Captain Corelli’s Mandolin in the river Nile, but luckily I had already read them! Thankfully my book is only temporarily astray in deepest darkest Buckinghamshire and I have decided to see this as an opportunity to skip to a book I have been wanting to read for ages – Marganita Laski’s Little Boy Lost while I wait for my errant Comyns to come back to me by post.
Where’s the oddest place you have left a book?