Sleepy Sunday Truffle on a Dime

1. Mix 1lb hyperactive-brother & pooch into early morning dozing till awake and bleerily looking at Fox 8 through rubbed eyes
2. Stir in 4oz of contended-to-have-chickens-under-wings Susan to TV sofa and need with bare hands till soft and warmly cosy
   
3. Abruptly add 1 dollop father till 3/4 mixture is ready to head on 100k bike
   
4. Separate male ingredients and bake till exhaustion (skin will be lightly brown with a hint of scarlet)
5. Recombine males with mixture and add 1 tablespoon of mum's cooking (fight the temptation to taste here!)
6. Let rest for afternoon before reheating for evening's entertainment
7. Ice carefully with some final calories on top
   
8. Sprinkle Australian Idol and Rove to garnish
9. Serves 4-5 routinely.
   

I'm finally patient enough to read novels

And I'm happy about it.

For most of my life, I've found reading a novel a challenge because

1. I never would read for longer than 1 hour continuously because I would become restless and
2. I had no idea how to find novels that I might enjoy.
   

I think 2. contributed to 1. heavily. I would be stir-crazy because I was reading novels I wasn't really into!

But that all changed when about a year ago I was reading a magazine and found a list of Stephen King's favourite books read in 2006. This was a revelation to me: why not let a fantastic author illuminate captivating titles rather than taking ill-judged stabs in the dark? I started reading my way through his list and began to discover that novels are the perfect way to transport you into the mind of an entirely different person. And unlike my prior attempts, which saw me reading a bunch of crime/detective thriller pap, I've been having no trouble reading in big old solid blocks of time - this is particularly easy when wrapped in 1 x cosy doona and when serenaded by pitter-pattering rain on window sill.

Now I can't get enough - especially when the novel gets me inside the mind of someone quite different to me or anyone I know well. For example, I particularly enjoyed Mark Haddon's The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, which gave me a insight into the mind of someone with autistic spectrum disorder.

Currently, I am reading The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne, which tells the story of the 9 year-old son of the Nazi Commandant running Auschwitz. Haven't come across anyone like that around Brisbane.

I've always been prone to a bit of arm-chair psychology and this sort of stuff is highly stimulating for the reclining leather chair-prescribing shrink that pontificates endlessly inside me.

I managed to read 6 novels last month, but am back at clinic this month. Heavens know that saps the aura right off your ectoplasm. After a day of constant learning and dealing with people, watching Australian Idol can be mentally challenging, let alone mustering the energy to imagine a world dictated by some words on a page...

Anyhoo, I have a new position statement to issue to the public: reading is cool.