One of my favorite spots to waste away a day is a musty, crammed to the rafters used books store. I love the dust. I love the way the books feel when you open them, the slight yellowing of the pages, even that slight smell of mildew that comes from a long stored treasure.
Walk into a store like this with me and count your day gone. I will not be leaving soon. Who Knows what treasures await?
When I was a child, I found a medical textbook from the 1800's. "Chill Blane" was a diagnosis. So was "Histrionic Female."
Perhaps I will find a new addition to my ever growing Wonder Book and My Book House collection. I read these over and over again as a child, somehow parted ways with them, and am slowly reacquiring them.
In Paris, a French biography of Marcel Proust (that I can't read as my french is not good enough) with a beautiful red leather cover. This the same day I placed a Madeleine on his grave site.
In New Orleans, the complete Remembrance of Things Past to add to my Proust obsession. In England, first editions for my mom's Miss Read collection. The journals of a Country Doctor. A cookbook by Toulouse Lautrec in which "Grilled Saint on a Stick" is an entree.
My great grandmother's copy of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and Tennyson's poems. My mom's High School year book.
I Love Old Books.