Tonight I made a soup for dinner. Since I’m not pure of heart, I used a dry soup mix from the cupboard; Pip and I evaluated the choices, and agreed that this one looked promising. I am very sad to say that we erred. The soup was thin and cardboard-y, and Pippa and I decided after a half bowl each that we would not require one another to finish — and Pip made a delicious tofu dip to tide us over.
This sort of post — personal, unabashedly mingled with more serious reflections — has occasioned a number of posts on the bibliobloggers’ blogs (it’s slightly amusing to be the subject of a series of blog posts explaining why people don’t read my blog). At the same time, I don’t begrudge my colleagues their diffidence. Online media offer every reader the opportunity to read what suits him or her, and every blogger the opportunity to link to what suits him or her. . . .