fajrdrako | Trek to Carleton Place... (Reply)

Carleton Place is a town about 40 km from Ottawa. On a Saturday in May, I go there with a group of friends to visit an old bookstore called The Book Gallery. Browsing books is one of my favourite pleasures.

But it didn't start there. I met

maaboroshi for coffee at Bridgehead, then she went to get her hair done while I went to a drugstore for antihistamines, and then went to The Comic Book Shoppe because it was Free Comic Book Day. Usually I get my comic books at the Silver Snail. But it was raining... hard, by that time. The Comic Book Shoppe was closer.

Now, one thing I hate is getting new comics wet. Even free new comics. I remember one year when the comics came out every Wednesday, and wouldn't you know it, it rained every Wednesday all summer. This time, I had a backpack to protect the comics, but no plastic bag. I wrapped them in a free newspaper at the bus stop, and hoped for the best. My back pack was already getting damp.

Then I took the bus to Ikea. It took two bus transfers - efficient ones; I'd already mapped out the route from OC Transpo's 'trip planner', thought I'd timed it for two hours later. I gambling that the buses would be on the same schedule at 11 as at 1, and they were.

I bought a shower curtain and a cushion cover at Ikea - a match to a cushion cover I already have, with a design that I call the White Tree of Gondor. Then I sat for a while, happily reading, eating, and drinking tea in the Ikea cafeteria - warming up from having got chilled in the cold rain at the various bus stops.

Next: browsing in Chapters, making notes of the books I want (to search out in the library), telling myself sternly that it was foolish to buy books at a store for new books, when I was on my way to a second-hand bookstore.

Met up with the rest of the crowd at Tasia's place, and then went to Carleton Place with Peter in his car, with Janet. Janet and I talked about the big comic book show in Toronto last weekend - which she got to attend, and I am green with jealousy.

Then: the bookstore. Cooler, cleaner, and neater than it was last year. I got into conversation with the proprietor, though I didn't learn his name. His dog's name is Remy, a large, lovable German Shepherd. His hobby? I never would have guessed. In his spare time he writes Harry Potter fanfic.

And, yes, I bought books.

Smoker by Greg Rucka, because I was reading his book Shooting at Midnight and loving it
A Fistful of Rain by Greg Rucka
Companions on the Road by Tanith Lee
Eight Days of Luke by Diana Wynne Jones, which I read years ago, and loved, but didn't own
Chronicles of the Crusades by Joinville and Villehardouin (Penguin edition translated by M.R.B. Shaw, I'm sorry to say; I'm not usually happy with Penguin translations.)
Slave Trade by Susan Wright -on spec, an impulse buy
Medieval Households by David Herlihy, whose history writing I have admired in the past
Writing from the Heart by Nancy Slonim Aronie
A Novel Approach by Joyce White
...and the piece de resistance, a book I've wanted for years:
Reader's Digest Illustrated Reverse Dictionary

By then, the rain had long since stopped, and Janet bought a gorgeous Superman shirt in the Giant Tiger down the street. After a brief snack (a 'pick me up', Tasia called it) at the Tim Horton's in Carleton Place, we headed off to eat at the Old Mill Pub in Ashton. We had careful directions to Ashton, but none of us knew the town - a picturesque place with few dozen buildings at most - a church, a post office, a few houses. We nonetheless managed to get lost in beautiful downtown Ashton, and couldn't find the Pub (the biggest building in town) until we stopped to ask for directions at the General Store and Andrea turned her head and saw it. It obviously was once an old mill, overlooking a small river in a wooded ravine. Andrea had her camera with her and got quite carried away taking photos.

We ate pub fare - I had shepherd's pie - and talked about the sorts of things we usually talk about, and planned a Scrabble party for next week at my place. The football scarves on the walls got us talking about sports, including the popularity and violence of lacrosse, and the recent loss of the Senator's. I tried to look alert and intelligent.

The we went for a pleasant walk in the streets of Aston. There are two streets at least. We picked one, enjoying the evening animals, birds and plants - a chipmunk, robins, mourning doves, a raccoon-taled cat, and several small, yappy dogs who came to check us out.

It was all a particularly nice day.