March 1, 2010 § 12 Comments
Can we get enough? No, never.
Enough what, you ask?
Enough books, book places, book sanctuaries, book-ness, I answer, straight-faced.
Her’s a place in STL, if you arrive here and are suddenly overwhelmed with that craving (addiction) to get into a bookstore. It’s the Book House, on Manchster.
It wouldnt be so bad, really, to have one’s house look like this, would it? (OK, maybe a little over the top, but that’s how we book lovers are!)
We spent several hours there on Sunday. I got lost in the fiction area which is entirely possible once you locate the step stool and say a few words to the cat that lounges in the window. HM went upstairs and a I heard the scrape of a chair and smiled and later, having climbed the narrow front stairs, found him in the poetry room, folded into a small chair, with books on his lap and one opening, reading. Two rooms away, Nory was going through autobiographies. She’s an eclectic reader like her dad; she had a copy of Hepburn’s “ME” in her hand for purchase.
Imagine going to someone’s house where you could browse, read, find a chair, and thousands of books, of all types, arranged nearly artfully, inviting you to have a look, have a read. Take one home.
And so we did.