I like books.


I live in a small town and enjoy writing about the inhabitants. I spend most of my time perusing through used book stores looking for that one great book that I don't have; consequently, I have rooms filled with books. I am a book addict.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

I got my Latin Dick and it makes me so happy.

My Latin dictionary is here, in my house, on my cluttered desk/table. We picked it up this evening; it has pages and pages on just one word. I am so impressed, plus it’s huge, not just thick but big so that the words aren’t really tinny tiny.

Mr. Zelda went into the bookstore to pick it up. I sat in the truck and watched a man I named Popeye. He was extremely skinny and was leaning on the side of Barnes and Nobles smoking a pipe, trying to look all-academic, and twice he burned his fingers on the hot bowl. (I know about hot bowls but not from tobacco) I laughed and then he finally gave up on his pipe and put it back inside the little pouch that hung from his side and he went inside. I was curious and wanted to follow him to see what part of the bookstore that he found interesting. I suspect the newstand and only because he headed that direction.

We ate out and I ate this really awful catfish and my husband had chicken and we both ate a banana split. I only ate half of mine, both the food and the dessert and he licked his platter clean. It’s the steroids he takes for his crones disease, makes him eat like a pig and his face is so round and his belly is getting rounder. I feel sorry for him because I have been on steroids long term and know the effects of the drug. He asks me if he is getting fat and I say no and he says are you sure and I say yes but who cares. I have never been one to judge anyone by their size, even when I was a size 9.

Now, it’s the Latin dictionary and me, one more fix for my addiction.


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