Yesterday, I talked Don into accompanying me on a trip up the thruway to a neighboring city. I had to buy some yarn for more Obsession scarves. It started out as a sunny day, but got cloudy as we moved northward.
These were taken by my iPhone, in a moving car, with not the steadiest of hands, so there is an interesting graininess that I rather like. You can see we are either at or have just finished our peak colors.
Taken out the passenger window as we moved by this scene at thruway speed.
The Catskill Mountains.
I managed to snag some of the solid color silk/bamboo yarn I use in the Obsession Scarves. Then we stopped by the bookstore. Can I say something here? I am a bookaholic. Whenever I’ve had any extra cash in my adult years, I’ve spent it on books. And records, in the days when there were record stores. (That will be a whole other post.) Clothes? Okay, but only the necessities. Books? Yes, yes, and yes.
But we are living frugally here at the cottage. I cannot justify the expense right now. So I borrow books from the library and buy used books and am fortunate enough to get free copies of the books I review. And I’m grateful. I’ve saved a ton of money doing it this way.
But, oh, when I walked into Barnes & Noble and saw all the new, spiffy, wonderful books displayed, I had to purposely avert my eyes. I could only give a quick glance here and there. My hands wanted to reach out and grab some new books. There’s nothing like that feeling a new book has. No one else has read it. The binding hasn’t been cracked. The pages are crisp. The dustcover is undisturbed.
I have to stop.
Anyway, the end result is what it has always been for the last year or so. No new books. Both of us saw a book or two we wanted, and acknowledged it with the word “Christmas.” There’s a new Lee Child for me. Don wants to read Neil Young’s autobiography.
I looked through the magazine rack and thumbed through some shelter magazines. As is the norm lately, I passed. There seems to be nothing new under the sun and the fact is, most homes I see profiled in magazines have already been covered in blogland. I’ve seen them many times. Why spend money for something that I’ve already seen? I love the look of all the Stampington magazines – they are beautifully designed. But at $15.00 a copy, I cannot justify buying one.
Don bought a decaf coffee. I bought a little notebook. That’s it.
Let’s see, what would be a dream come true for me? A carpenter sneaking into my home and building lots of bookcases. He’d have to know how to maneuver around our baseboard heating that sticks out at the base of every wall, therefore making it impossible to nestle furniture flush against the wall and drives me nuts. A wall of bookcases in the den would be perfect. And then, part two of the dream, I would be notified that some mysterious benefactor had given me a Books for Life giftcard. I could buy as many as I desired for the rest of my days.
Heaven.
Hey, it doesn’t hurt to dream, now does it?
Since I’m sharing views with you, here’s the view from the back forty on our property. I’m standing up on the hill.
That’s our mountain ridge. Not a bad view, eh? (As my Canadian grandmother used to say.)
Now for the final photo. I took this yesterday and I love the way it turned out – sort of impressionistic and watery.
What do you think this is? I’ll reveal the answer tomorrow.
Happy Monday.
