Downstairs book heap

It was another miserably wet day and I decided against another walk in the rain. I did some useful bits of admin and, in need of a small space for my coffee mug, pruned my current book heap, removing things I've either finished reading for now or still not started after many weeks or months. I note that the Patrick Heron exhibition catalogue was already in the pile in my first book heap blip in January 2021. I like looking at the pictures, and was slowly working through the essays at the front, which I found very interesting but quite slow to read. I've not returned to them for while, but am not giving up on the idea. Mary Oliver has been there a long time too: I keep dipping into this volume and there is always  poetry in the pile, along with some art books, a novel and possibly a non-fiction prose work. There's another book heap on my bedside cabinet where the mix is a bit different. I've not managed to make much time for reading recently, but am hoping, as always, to excuse myself from all but the essential jobs for a couple of days over Christmas, when my dream will be to sit beside the fire with a book.