A lot of my books have food in them. Stains from oranges. Grease spots. I read when I’m baking. And while I’m eating.
And I feel bad… But not bad enough to stop. The two seem to go together. A book relaxes me in the same way that baking does. The logical progression. The way the next thing that happens, however surprising, is the thing that should happen next.
And there are poorlie made foods and poorlie made books, but the eating and the reading are the only way to know. And I know I can eat all the food, or read all the books…
But I can do my best.