Bookwitch

Philip Ardagh; I love you. Again, or still, or whatever. Philip Ardagh’s Book of Absolutely Useless Lists for absolutely every day of the year (phew, got there at last) was out yesterday.

Just reading the inside of the dust wrapper made me smile. The corners of my mouth went up to at least well above my ears. After browsing through the book for a short while I had tears streaming down my cheeks. And not because it’s a bad book. The headache that had been with me all day was almost gone, so no, it’s not an entirely useless book either.

Looked up the dates for our family’s birthdays. The Resident IT Consultant and the witch got very short lists, whereas both Son and Daughter got really long ones. Unfair. Son got a list on art. He hates art. Hah.

I’m a listwriter myself, but only of the kind that says clean house, buy food and mow lawn. Things you tick when done. Philip’s lists can go on and on, with no ticking required.

Is there no limit to how funny Philip Ardagh (the very lovely one…) can be? This is a great book (yes, quite big too) and would make a very good Christmas present. And if you suspect nobody would think of buying you a copy, get one for yourself.

The footnotes are almost better than the lists.