Saturday, January 22, 2011

Snowy Cold January

Hmmph!  I have noticed that I am not great at this blogging stuff.  But I do have an excuse, I have been very sick with Strep Throat.  Word to the wise here, go when you first feel the discomfort, not like me, and two days later, and pretty much unable to swallow.  "ah" in surprise the Doctor said, when she peered down my throat.  "if it was both sides" she said "i would have hospitalized you".  I squeaked an "ah" myself.  So medication in hand (horse pills), at 500g a pill, I am hoping I will be better soon.  I cannot really talk, but my pantomime skills are coming along swimmingly.  Funny but not really.  So enough about me and illness, and onto what I really want to talk about.

I, from an early age have always loved books!  To read, to hold, to admire.  Turning the first page of a newly purchased book (to me), is just a delicious experience.  Sooo, when I went down to our Condo's Library I was shocked when I saw a stack of books with a "For Garbage" on it, my heart started thumping.  And the following questions came to mind:
  • What?
  • Why?
  • Who decided?
I looked through the stack frantically, wanting to grab all of them and save them, but knowing wholeheartedly that my husband would kill me (not really kill, but disapprove).  So using my logical mind, I sifted through, the books, a lot of them were romance novels, covers half torn, and pages well dogeared.  Romance novels were my absolute favourite when I was in my early teens.  My sister (older by 10 years) used to drop them off by the boxload when I was younger, and I would spend weeks careening through them, a distressed Viking princess, who though always captured, managed to woo the savage enemy man (often named Thor, or Olaf) into her bosom.

 Anyway, I digress with memories of those long ago days and should get back to my rescue mission.  Not wanting any of the paperbacks, I rescued, art books (one was even my own I had left there), and carted them all back to my place.  "What treasures!" my mind screamed.  I sat down and began to flip through them, illustrations, artwork, all jumped to my eyes.  I never get tired of looking at old illustrative works, and of course the greats of Matisse, Picasso...etc..  I discovered why they were being tossed, one of them was thoroughly wrecked (I suspected red wine), the others bindings were breaking.  So I salvaged what I could, and patted myself on the back for saving all of these treasures.

Now what to do with them?

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