Monday 3 September 2007

spooky

it's a habit of mine whenever i buy a book to scribble my name, the season, and the year on the flyleaf. just as an aide-mémoire, you understand. helps me to remember when, and possibly where, i first read the book in q. so tonight i was poking around in jonathan fenby's "on the brink: the trouble with france"—a contemporary survey of french life—which i thought i'd read 2 years ago. tops. nope. winter, 1999 it was. where did all the time go?

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