Peter Ackroyd, Tudors: A History of England Volume II (History of England Vol 2), Philip Roth, Portnoy's Complaint, Philip Parker, The Empire Stops Here: A Journey along the Frontiers of the Roman World, PG Wodehouse, Lord Emsworth Acts For The Best

I'm full of snot and cold at the moment, and have been since Christmas Eve, which has affected the family enjoyment of the period. Poor Helen has had to cope with the kids as I've been useless and laid up in bed for large periods. The kids seem to have had a good time of it though, with Scalextric being Freddie's new obsession (will it overtake Lego in the long run though?). Libby is still a real handful, so physical and always jumping at me, climbing over me or generally launching herself. She does it to Bibs too, which is worrying, and I spend too much time telling her to be careful of her little brother. 

Karl Ove Knausgaard A Death in the Family: My Struggle Book 1, Patrick Leigh Fermor, The Broken Road:From the Iron Gates to Mount Athos, Paul Kingsnorth, The Wake, David Crystal, Spelling, John Updike, Rabbit Run, James Falkner, Marshal Vauban and the Defence of Louis XIV's France, Robert Merle, The Brethren, Roger Crowley, City of Fortune: How Venice Won and Lost a Naval Empire, CJ Sansom, Dominion, Patrick Barkham, Badgerlands:The Twilight World of Britain's Most Enigmatic Animal, Agatha Christie The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, David Abulafia, The Great Sea: A Human History, Max Adams, King In The North: The Life & Times of Oswald of Northumbria, Georges Simenon, Pietr The Latvian

Ouch, far too long left again. Work has been very stressful and three kids are keeping us v busy. Nearly all the reading has been done on the exercise bike in the gym at work. None of the non-fiction stands out, but A Death in the Family, Dominion and The Wake were cracking reads. Was a bit worried that Knausgaard might be a bit emperor's new clothes, as he appears to be a writer beloved by writers rather than readers, but despite it being a Seinfeldesque 'book about nothing' it kept me reading. Dominion was set in an alternative world where Britain surrendered in WWII and is now led by a fascist government under (who else?) Beaverbrook.

Since that last paragraph, a further 3 books have been read with no commentary, one largely on a flight to and from Dusseldorf for work

George Eliot, Middlemarch, Simon Winder, Danubia:A Personal History of Habsburg Europe; Francesca Simon, The Lost Gods, Graham Robb, The Ancient Paths: Discovering the Lost Map of Celtic Europe, Alan Beechey, This Private Plot, Alan Johnson, This Boy, Hakan Nesser, Woman With Birthmark

Middlemarch took forever to read, shamefully. Billy, or 'Bibs' (as Libby accidentally called him and which seems to be sticking) is taking up most of Helen's time with feeding and comforting, so I don’t have much time for reading left after looking after F&L and trying to keep the house tidy. The rest were read on holiday in Harcombe Bottom, when I rediscovered an appetite for reading. It has slowed right down since returning as have fallen back into the old routine. The up side of this is that I'm getting exercise again following two weeks of cream teas and cider.

Incredible to think that the last time I wrote the World Cup hadn't even started and Bibs was only 4 weeks old. That seems like a lifetime ago now. Helen saw a newborn yesterday and Bibs looked like a monster baby capable of devouring it whole. There has to be a limit to baby-led weaning though.  The World Cup seems to have sparked an interest in football from Fred, and he spends his waking hours in either his Woking shirt or his Tottenham shirt, The last couple of nights I've come home to find he's drawn Tottenham badges, one including a monster representing Arsenal. We often play 'Name 5', for example 'Name 5 islands' or 'Name 5 types of tree'. He doesn’t seem to like naming 5 Tottenham players though. He always gets Hugo Lloris, and sometimes Andros Townsend and then 'Eric. . . Eric'. Which could be Lamela, Dier or even Christian Eriksen

Libby absolutely has me wrapped around her finger. I'm still in the spare room as Bibs is in with Helen, and Libby wakes up in the middle of the night and hammers on the door to be let in. She then  climbs into bed and twists, turns and rotates until wake-up time. Just like her Mum, there is often a punch to my eye or a haymaker to my neck, or a kick in the ribs too. And then she tells me she loves me and gives a big hug and all is forgiven. She's so confident too. All holiday she was going up to strangers with her standard bellowed greeting 'I LIBBY!  WHAT YOU CALLED?' WHAT YOUR DOG CALLED?'

Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird, Phillip Parker, Northmen's Fury: A History of The Viking World.

Billy's 4 weeks old now, and hasn't stopped feeding for about 4 days, poor Helen. I've been looking after F&L when not working, and we've been having a wonderful time of it. Lots of cycle rides, football and lego. Libby has developed a tendency to tell anyone she encounters that her friend Lauren has a trampoline, and Fred managed to cycle all the way over to Guildford on Saturday, which makes me very proud. I bribed him with £1 for every mile he cycled!

The World cup kicks off in a few weeks, and Fred and I have been collecting stickers. Kev & Jo have been too, and we've just sent off for the last few. An old colleague at work has also been collecting, but was worried that he'd be found out if we were spotted swapping at work, so we’ve been having clandestine lunchtime meetings in his jag in the car park to rummage through each others' swap pile. Pride and dignity is no match for an elusive sticker of Thibaut Courtois or the Uruguayan Team.

'To Kill a Mockingbird' is one of the books I bought recently that I should have read. Next up is Middlemarch, and Midnight's Children, Portnoy's Complaint and Rabbit, Run are all now sat on my 'Books In' shelf waiting to be read. I loved it. Atticus Finch is a wonderful, idealised man, although much more conservative (or realistic?) than I realised.

Charlotte Higgins, Under Another Sky: Journeys in Roman Britain, Joseph O'Neill, Netherland, Alan Bullock, Ernest Bevin: Foreign Secretary 1945-51

Was reading the last in the list when William Robert Sawyer was born! Not at the actual point of birth of course, as that would show a casual indifference to the birth of our third child, but the book was in the hospital with me, and I did sneak a few pages between contractions. Helen set a precedent by picking up her copy of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman's 'Good Omens', so I felt it was ok for me to follow suit. So Volume III of Bullock's Bevin joins Marina Lewycka's  'A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian' and Trevor Dean's 'Crime in Medieval Europe: 1200-1550' in a very special trinity of books.

Young Billy is doing well, feeding ok and giving Helen just about enough sleep. We were quite shocked that the grandparents weren't at all keen on the name though; they're perfectly happy with William, but my Dad and Helen's Mum in particular were dead set against Billy or Bill.  Freddie's friend Luke has just had a little brother called Ben, and when his mum suggested that the new arrivals were 'Bill and Ben', Helen's mum was very quick to correct it to 'WILL and Ben'.  If Bill had been a girl he would probably have been a Matilda, which also turned out to be anathema to all four grandparents and Helen's brother. 

Freddie & Libby have been very good with their new baby brother. Well, to be fair, Libby has been very good and taken an interest (she’s perhaps slightly over-possessive – MY BABY! GIVE HIM ME!); Freddie is just vaguely aware there is another presence in the house. It’s possible that until young Billy can kick a ball or discuss Star Wars he’ll remain off Fred’s radar completely.

Fiona McCarthy, William Morris: A Life for Our Time, Ferdinand von Schirach, The Collini Case

EP Thompson's biography of Morris concentrated on the political element, but McCarthy offers a much more rounded picture. She speaks very highly of EP Thompson's work though, and credits him with reviving awareness of Morris' politics when he was in danger of being seen as a nice artist and craftsman for the middle classes rather than a radical, or, as McCarthy prefers to describe him, a  radical conservative. Obviously I'm now on a Morris kick, planning trips to the Red House and Kelmscott, critiquing everything in the house to make sure that I either know it to be useful or believe it to be beautiful, and looking for antique prints of the frontispiece to 'News From Nowhere' on eBay.

The Collini Case was translated from the German by the legendary Anthea Bell, and was a legal procedural that received great reviews for uncovering a shocking loophole in German law that meant war criminals could not be prosecuted. Everyone involved had missed the implication of the clause at the time, which is almost understandable given the innocuity of it; the author publishes it at the end and the banality of it is chilling.

Russell Shorto, Amsterdam: A History of the World's Most Liberal City, Susanna Clarke, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, Charles Emmerson 1913:The World Before The Great War, Bernard Cornwell, The Last Kingdom

Russell Shorto's book  wasn't a History of Amsterdam, it was the story of certain periods of Amsterdam's history - the Golden Age of the 16th and 17th Century and then the 20th Century. The Napoleonic occupation was hardly mentioned, for example. I wanted to know more about the origins of the city too, but was disappointed.

The two novels were comfort reads - Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell  is still an enchanting read; I wish Susanna Clarke had written more! I sent it to a bibliophile work colleague in exchange for The Secret History, and she is working through it at the moment . Bernard Cornwell, by contrast, seems to produce a book every time he leaves the house. This one was from the period of the Danish invasions, and I'll need to read more from the series. Of course, that's also true of all the Scandi-noir, the Montalbano novels, I've not read any Georges Simenon yet and I've recently been given the complete works of Agatha Christie. Maybe I'll have to change my non-fiction/fiction ratio.

On Monday I went to a talk given by Charles Emmerson at Woking Library, who was a bright fellow. As happened with Simon Scarrow, someone asked my question before I was able to, being so shy and english. It concerned his speculation that in 1913 the Ottoman empire could have been on the verge of resurgence rather than inexorable decline.  Apparently my questions are always the obvious ones! It may also qualify as the dullest way to celebrate St Patrick's Day yet devised.