
My taste in books is so odd that when the library want to get rid of books nobody borrows — or nobody wants to buy, they ask if I want them. So I came home with two autobiographies. Both are written in Swedish by women, one born in 1870 and the other in 1914 — both are unknown to me. I have to admit that I'd rather spend the day reading but I have some ingredients that will walk out of the fridge by themselves unless I use them today. So I'm off to the kitchen.
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