I Love the Smell of Books in the Morning

I decided that for Christmas I would take three days off, a well deserved break in my opinion, but the weather said, “No, I think you should have four days off and to ensure you take that extra day I’m going to make sure there is no power at your shop.” Which it very effectively did by throwing an ice storm shaped tantrum and taking out most of the power in the city. So, like many others I retreated in the face of the tantrum and took refuge under my covers and hoped the power would return soon so that I could do all the things I had planned to do with my time off.

Alas it was not to be.

Instead of watching Christmas movies, e-mailing friends across the globe and baking ridiculous amounts of Christmas flavoured treats, I winter camped in my house and snuggled with my cat to keep her warm. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, I love winter camping and I love snuggling with my cat and I’ve never had the opportunity to combine the two activities before. So all in all it was a good four days, just not what I had expected.

So on day five, when it was time to get back to work, I walked across the snow covered street and saw the little light glowing feebly in the shop window. I was filled with an excited warmth, a warmth that comes from knowing you’re closed to a place with actually warmth, a warmth that you don’t have to produce yourself because it comes out of a radiator. I hurried into the shop and got that first whiff of books and saw them crowded on the shelves and it kind of felt like coming home.