I’ll bet you thought this was going to be a cutesy bit along the lines of the old outhouse-and-Monkey-Ward-catalogue joke, didn’t you? Nope, not the same thing at all.

I must have read Page 194 of Agatha Christie’s book Mrs. McGinty’s Dead at least a hundred times. This is not because I find the prose so entrancing–although I have to say I do enjoy Christie’s work when I’m in that kind of mood–but merely because that is the paperback that sits on top of the toilet tank in the yellow bathroom.

We don’t usually use the yellow bathroom much; it’s really for guests or for convenient service when the pink room (much more comfortable despite being pink) is already in use. But when nature calls, as it tends to do from time to time, one grabs handy reading material and lets the pages fall as they may. In the yellow room, that is generally at Page 194.

I suppose I should say in passing that there is also a magazine in there, but I find little to recommend a publication that deals exclusively with capacitors and resistors and transistors and other things electronic. Hubby doesn’t care much for Mrs. McGinty.

I don’t, after all this time, know how that particular book came to reside in the yellow room, but by now it’s become a part of the decor. It’s comfortable. One doesn’t need to expend a lot of thought on the reading. I already know whodunnit, and why, and how. It’s just that these few moments are a gift, of sorts. It’s a time when I don’t have to feel guilty about reading instead of dusting, or vacuuming, or even writing. This is a freebie. What more does a reader need?

I’ll see you again, after the commercial.