Sorry Dad

Kate, you may wish to look away now.

I’ve mentioned many times before how I was raised to respect books and that I am of the firm belief you shouldn’t be able to tell a book has been read once you’ve finished this. Evidence of this would be my 100 or so Doctor Who books that, even though they are about 30 years old now, look as if they have just come off the shelf from Angus and Robertson at the Capri Center in Shepp.

Well, Dad, I’m sorry but I’ve had to do the unthinkable. You see, I’m teaching myself a new computer language. It’s been over a decade since I’ve updated my programming skills (which is an eternity in computer times) and while I’m very good at what I do I want to make sure that I’m not left way behind; and right now my skills are so out of date in terms of what the market demands I may as well be coding using punch cards.

So I bought a book. A lovely shiny book full of information I need to start getting me up to speed and (really Kate, look away…) to make sure I use it properly the first thing I did was fold the cover the back and push it down. I know, shocking. Then, as I read, I made notes. On the pages. (Pass the smelling salts, I’m having a turn.) Admittedly I couldn’t quite bring myself to use a pen but there are many, many pencil notes – not only in the margin but actually on the text.

Now I’ve started with this one I have my eye on a cook book. I’m thinking I may even lay it on the bench and turn pages without washing my hands. There’s no stopping me now.