Arrived home to find that my copy of The Hero and the Crown has arrived from foreign climes. I don't know why it's not available locally. But there it is. I haven't read it since I was a teenager, so perhaps I'll have a different perspective in a day or two. I shall report.
Has been a massive week of book acquisition. The husband is abandoning his long-time career as a bookseller. Which means no discounts on new books in the future. This will be the first time in about 18 years that neither me nor any immediate family members will be working in a bookshop. It's unnatural. We could just open our front door and put a sign up, I suppose. We have quite enough books to spare a few.
It's lucky we found Canty's so we can get more. And more. And more and more and more.
I also acquired two Phryne Fisher mysteries that I haven't yet read, Ursula Dubosarksy's The Word Spy for me and the Noodle and Anthony Eaton's YA fantasy books on the recommendation of Emily at Riverbend Books. If they're not outrageously good, she's in big, big trouble.
The Noodle's book pile is looking alarming. I can't even begin to describe it. But it's starting to escape, and may be breeding.
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