Pop into the used bookstore to enquire about a couple of older editions they had in the window - Sir Richard Burton on the Discovery of the Source of the Nile - (not exact title) - which interested me as I'd read Speke's version of events and enjoyed it immensely, and Stanley's "In Darkest Africa" - also of great appeal. Both, sadly, not priced to my budget at this time. Take the opportunity to browse for other books.
In the background they have some classical piano concertos playing, which slightly stimulate my brain and get me to thinking...
When was the last time I had music? A long time. I mean a very long time. Years. I get by with the radio in the Jeep, other peoples tastes, maybe via the computer - but the quality, it shows, poor speakers, ads, pop-songs, none of the old-timey cerebral just listen to classical music...
The speakers here are great. I at first thought there was a pianist in the hall- but no.
I miss this. And so I'm slow in my browsing, the store is largely empty, the predictable side effect of an unpredictable schedule of hours decided by the proprietor on the morning of...
So, browse for books, a fine selection, better than Calgary - by far, I've noticed this before. Books on shelves, in boxes, organized every which way and not at all, the proprietor, he sits in the front window, mask on, engrossed in reading Marquez's "100 Years of Solitude" or some such, a little end table beside his chair piled to overflowing with books he has planned to read next, or has already finished, he's an endorsement of how I'd love to spend my working retirement, it's a shame to tip his chair when finally I've found my pick - "Hamlet Letters" by Henry Miller, this bookstore, it's great, never what you were looking for but always something just as good.