I finished off my reread of Horse Heaven during jury duty. Am still trying to go through Twelve Wild Swans in something resembling front-to-back order, but the book gets too exciting and I wind up bouncing around.
Finished John Warren's The Loving Dominant and Lady Green's The Sexually Dominant Woman. The latter is rather basic, but serious art always springs from a profound knowledge of the basics. (Another way of saying this is that you can't break the rules until you know what the rules are, and why.)
Half-way through a reread of Cheri Huber's Be The Person You Want To Find. It's making more sense this time around. The first read seemed to be careening between self-evident statements and opacity.
I still want my copy of Home Comforts back. It's one of those books that I need two copies of: one to loan and one to keep at home.
What I read very much weights what I think about, or prioritize. For example when I was keeping Katherine Endicott's Northern California Gardening in the bathroom (and where HAS that book gone, I would like to know? Grr) I was working quite happily on the tiny container garden on the front deck, and thinking wistful thoughts about native plant restoration over the five acres. Now that I'm not (and the entire aforementioned container garden is dead :-), such thoughts rarely come to mind, unless occasioned by, say, the discovery of some Centaurea solstitialis in my back yard (evil!). If I'm reading dog books, Sable takes up more of my mental attention. Etc and so on and how about you?