The rain is lashing Perth again. I farewelled the Blackcurrants for more than two months this morning, with a delicious breakfast shared with much laughter. Even if not my own home, I am very lucky to live in our odd little family unit.
Trapidation over my own trip continues to grow, tainted with guilt and stress.

I have much to think about, as a conversation with HT made clear to me yesterday, drinking milky tea while Perth spread sunshine carelessly. Embracing change and all of that.

So this morning, blinking away sleep and wading through the weather I felt like I needed a dose of Winterson to start the day. And in her column from December 2011, she says:

I would be dead if I had never found books. So I wouldn’t call them a luxury or a leisure item. I’d call them allies in the life and death struggle.

She also quotes the late owner of Shakespeare and Company bookshop in Paris:

George said, ‘The business of books is the business of life.’ I love that. If books do disappear then something of life will disappear too.

This is timely to think about as Fairfax slash jobs across Australia and broadsheets like the dear old Age are to become tabloids. I hope we never lose the smudge of newsprint completely.