I didn't mean to bid but I did I did

The more I read

the more I know I need to read

stories heal and whole

for a while

I feel

the fiction's real 

books  

take away 

reality's more painful truths

perhaps this is escape

but to me each word's

a magic herb

each book

essential spirit medicine

I read I read

to keep my soul alive 

to keep my heart on fire 

 

 

Have you ever gone to an auction and before you knew it- your hand went up and you bought   

A library? Long story short: 

I didn't even know there was an auction on Saturday. 

A neighbour dropped by and told me to check it out.  

I was digging in the garden. I weeded a bit more, then thought: that might be fun

I dragged my Deeply Dimpled French Man from his plastering job and we arrived about an hour after bidding started.

No viewing time.

I grabbed a number. My DDFM said, " I see you will be here for a while, I'm leaving."  

I said, "Okay, come back in two hours--200.00 limit." 

Fifteen minutes later I was surprised how restrained I'd been. I'd only bought one book for 5.00.

When the auctioneer said--- "Ladies and gents, there's a lotta books to go today, he had quite the collection upstairs in the back room, who'll buy the whole shebang? Who'll give me a thousand for the bunch?"-- everyone laughed. Including me. 

Then the price went lower and lower and lower and lower and my heart sank lower and lower.

A lifetime's collection of books and no one wants them ?

So I put up my hand to start the bid at 100.00. One hundred.  

Yep, I got the whole shebang for 150.00!  

Except I had no idea what I'd bought. Mouldy, musty paperbacks? 

I went to investigate. It was an incredible collection of hardcover-- mostly Canadian books-  and classics in mint condition. Yes, the books were so beautiful they brought tears to my eyes. The man had been a hardworking farmer who raised cattle and horses. And a literary, voracious reader.

They're not valuable in a market sense but they're valuable to me. This book collecting gene I inherited from my Dad.  "These musty old books", my mother used to say, "smell like old potatoes from the cold room." But she dusted them lovingly and listened patiently as my father read from them. 

When the DDFM came back for me he asked : "So what did you get? 

I said: "The library." He said : "You're kidding me right?" I said, "There's several books on relationships between the French and English, too.You'll love them."   

On Monday, we went to the liquor store and convenience store and got boxes and packed and lugged for three hours.

Guess my kindle and kobo buying will wait for a bit longer. 

The books have a home. Everyone in the village knows where they are. They no longer think I'm kind of nuts, they know I am. Maybe next winter we'll have a read-a-loud evening once a month. Sit around the fire, read from Poe. Or Moodie.  

Now all we need are .. more bookshelves. 

Love the ones above-- The Morrin in Quebec City. I did a reading there in April. I kept thinking how cool would it be to have a room like that?

Some of us like to read.

Some of us need to read.  

So, I've got my lifetime supply of medicine. This past week it helped revive me.

What's your medicine? Did you ever end up with hidden treasure?

I'd love if you left a comment for me to read. I need vitamins, too.