The Bookery … love books? Get involved

I love books.

I love books to a degree that I can’t describe, without foaming at the mouth and my eyes growing freakishly large for my face.

I love the feel of them in my hands.  I love the weight of the pages.

I love that feeling of cracking a book and feeling the spine give way, as it forms a lovely groove where you opened it across your chest, as you close your eyes for an afternoon doze with your book resting under your hand.

I buy books for my kids and they each have a fully stocked bookshelf in their rooms, that creaks with the weight of the books.

I do love books, and I wish everyone loved them as much as I do.

Kennith bought a Kindle for me as a present, because I had been mooning over one for such a long time.

I was so excited about the Kindle, but I missed my paper-and-ink world. I felt like I was cheating on my books my spending time with my Kindle.  Kindle got put into my desk top right hand drawer, and there it has sadly been lying for months, whilst I returned to the world of big books, cartridge paper and the use of Caslon font.

My idea of a truly good time is to spend hours in a book store …. hours … with no limit on how much time I can spend there {or limit on my credit card}.

The inevitable result is that hours in book stores = piles of books in shopping bags coming home with me.

To prevent myself turning into the mad-cat-lady-with-piles-of-books-everywhere I have limited “book packing space” and when the space is full, then I need to take books out and give them away/sell them {to make space for the new ones I have bought.}

Second hand books have little to no resale value, but I am not going to throw them away, so I take them to second hand books stores because I do not know what else to do with them.

Introducing The Bookery – located at 18 Roeland Street, Cape Town.

The clever {and generous} folks there stock and service libraries in every single school in South Africa.

“The idea is to bring in as many suitable books to either high school or primary school kids as possible,” he says. Conyngham, who has been managing the Bookery since January works closely with EE colleagues in Khayelitsha. “The whole organization is engaged in a campaign for school libraries,” he said.

This is definitely where I plan to take my books in future.  Imagine a child from an improvished school able to use my books, and read and experience the happiness I have.

Imagine the gift of a journey through their imagination you are giving.  It makes me giddy excited.

Get your books, get in your car and take them to Roeland Street.  If the Bookery is closed, nip close by to 17 Roeland Street, to the Book Lounge, they have a “collection box” where you can place books for The Bookery.

The Bookery, 19 Roeland Street or if you have suitable books to donate, call 021 461 4189.

Drunken Texting … and other night time activities …

I think we are all familiar with the phenomena.

The night before last – I am sitting with my iphone and started chatting to a friend of mine.

I am used to using my nails as a stylus, but now I have to use the side of my baby finger.  The result is that it sometimes takes me a little while to compose a message.

Any the who, this friend and I start chatting.

Before I get in to bed, or actually as I get in to bed, I take my “night meds” – my meds work pretty quickly and are so effective that I do not take them and then go shower – as I am sure I may fall and knock my brains out.  My “night meds” are a commitment, once they are in, the game is over, there is no monkey business or operating heavy machinery, it is all fall down and stay there.

So I am chatting my my friend A on WhatsApp …..

At some point the medication kicks in, so technically I have left the building, even though my body is still there.

The next morning I pick up the phone and see there is this odd message on my chat history and immediately I think Kennith is a tool, as he has used my phone in error.

My phone is black and his is white, so I am pretty sure he must be seriously dim spirited.  I apologise to my friend for this strange message and we carry on chatting.

Last night I say to Kennith:” You know you used my phone in error and added a message ….”

Kennith looks at me, and I pass him the phone, he reads the message, looks back at me and starts to laugh.

Me: What’s so funny?

Kennith: Do you not remember this?

Me: Errr, no what?

Kennith:  Do you not remember struggling to type a message, so you decided to use SIRI and then you were slurring so badly SIRI did not understand you, and you said SIRI is stupid?

Me: I have SIRI on my phone?

Kennith – with tears running down his cheeks is trying to re-enact my slurring, and my inability to form a coherent sentence.

Kennith: Do you remember the movie you were watching?

Me = zero, like not even an incling of what he is talking about.

My message read: “Hpbst on this on well test for PC Bondeson well it’s a fine it’s 10 choices six.”

Seems legit.