Life must be filled up

Oh dear. I’ve just posted a stinker of a review of a new book. When I look at what it will cost and think that I’ve had the chance to read it for nothing, I feel ungrateful but if I don’t say what I think, how will anyone trust my reviews?

I’m sure there will be no such problem reading the books huskyteer and I picked up at the weekend. It was Folk Festival weekend and a rather subdued one. The usual charities’ fair was held on the Minster Green, with a very large bookstall. As is the way with nearly all book hunts these days, there were almost no old books to be seen. huskyteer was pleased with her haul which included Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal by H E Bates. She read it and left it behind and now I’ve nearly finished it, too. Because it’s good! It came from a box which included several other old Penguin editions of books by Bates and, two days later, I’m still kicking myself for not grabbing the lot at 20p each.

I got three books which I look forward to reading. The Villa in Italy by Elizabeth Edmondson, yay! It’s the first of her books I’ve ever been able to find second hand. Next a book by Rachel Hore which I hadn’t read, A Week in Paris. When I got it home I found it was a signed copy. So that’s two nice, fat paperbacks for me. From a smaller charity stall I got an even greater bargain, a hardback 1st edition of H is for Hawk, in excellent condition.

The weekend was pretty wet, on and off, which was a shame for the folk dancers, the birthday teas for the Queen and the cricket at Lord’s. Yesterday evening rain was coming down in sheets and it’s still wet this morning, with regular showers. Ah, an English summer.