It's been a busy couple of days for me, and so cold! Between finishing A Christmas Carol and waking up this morning to find everything covered in hoar frost I'm starting to feel a bit more christmassy. Even better yesterday we had another session with our British Sign Language (BSL) tutor, we covered all sorts of festive signs and I'm pleased to say I can now sign We Wish You a Merry Christmas, albeit slowly. This is a very good thing to learn to do when you have a singing voice like mine!
On the topic of (bad) singing I was lying in the bath the other night, and could hear strains of The X-Factor drifting through from the lounge. It was the cast of Glee performing, which got me having a bit of a dance in the water. Then I started thinking. I'm a bit of a Gleek and there are plenty of other series on TV that I love that are just as fluffy and non-challenging. My husband still doesn't understand why a woman with a good education and a professional job chooses to watch that sort of thing and I just can't get him to understand that sometimmes it's good to relax and not think for a while. The odd thing is though that when it comes to books I can't bring myself to read anything that's the literary equivalent of Glee, good old chick lit. My mum, sister and friends rarely read anything else, and I've had a crack at a couple of their books but it really doesn't interest me. Why is that? Why shouldn't I want the same sort of mindless escapism from a book that I do from tv? Am I a book snob? Even now no one on the train would know what I was reading - one of the joys of a kindle - I still don't feel tempted so I don't think it's that. Is it just that reading a good book, regardless of the subject, is so engrossing that it doesn't matter if it's a bit more challenging? Any ideas anyone?