I read quite a lot – for work, for education and for pleasure. Not as much in the last category any more, and less overall than I used to, but there are still a few fiction titles every year, usually in the “damn near brain-dead/guilty pleasure” category. There are very, very few books that I read hundreds of times. The Gruffalo is the only one this year.
It’s probably obvious that I have a young child – the Gruffalo isn’t a religious text, or a set of instructions for life. But there are lessons in it, and the reading of it, just the same. Continue reading “Lessons from the Gruffalo”