Thursday, October 10, 2013
this time last year
(Day trip to Tel Aviv before classes started.)
Thursday, October 3, 2013
trip to the library!
Last week, one of the days of the week when I was feeling tired, deliriously hot and discouraged, I took a trip to the library (as one does when one is feeling those things). Books cheer me up, and I find a good brisk walk (brisk, in this case, to avoid being struck by vehicles) also cheers me up.
From what I can discern, Sheba finds hissing at her purple ball works also.
I scowled along, sweating, and felt my spirits rise as the sidewalk ended. If there's one thing I love about the South when I'm in one of these moods, it's the tremendous sense of warmth and protection expressed towards pedestrians.
Not. Never. I'm pretty convinced Texas is working on a Survival of the Fittest theory, where Cars = Fittest.
Along the way, I walked past churches, homes and businesses, all quiet and ready for the end of the day. The light in the sky was changing, dogs were sniffing excitedly, not thinking of their short leashes, and parents were chasing kids from playgrounds toward minivans and dinner.
After several hot blocks, I made my way into the neighborhood where my branch of the library resides. At times it's not the nicest of places, but it has its feet firmly planted, knows who it is, and no one bothers you. The hamburger smell is also preeeety special. I keep meaning to find out if they're any good.
From what I can discern, Sheba finds hissing at her purple ball works also.
I scowled along, sweating, and felt my spirits rise as the sidewalk ended. If there's one thing I love about the South when I'm in one of these moods, it's the tremendous sense of warmth and protection expressed towards pedestrians.
Not. Never. I'm pretty convinced Texas is working on a Survival of the Fittest theory, where Cars = Fittest.
Along the way, I walked past churches, homes and businesses, all quiet and ready for the end of the day. The light in the sky was changing, dogs were sniffing excitedly, not thinking of their short leashes, and parents were chasing kids from playgrounds toward minivans and dinner.
After several hot blocks, I made my way into the neighborhood where my branch of the library resides. At times it's not the nicest of places, but it has its feet firmly planted, knows who it is, and no one bothers you. The hamburger smell is also preeeety special. I keep meaning to find out if they're any good.
My favorite part of the library is browsing. Anybody who tells you that browsing in a library isn't what you're supposed to do has never loved a book in their life. Where else can you rummage around, tasting a little here, perusing a little there, find your arms too filled and sit, ruminating, until you've made the determination that these two need to go back, those four can wait, and this one is what you'll be taking home? Why else would you make the trip?
I like this library because they have a whole rotating section of books, magazines and tapes that are usually offered for about a dollar (suggested donation) and if you're lucky you can find a few good ones. Even though I'm way away from home, there are usually a few authors that find me out and remind me of my family and the places I've been.
I made my selections, found out I had a late fee (the scourge of all library patrons), and made my way back home to Sheeber.
Do you have a library you like going to?