Each Easter Sunday our local town, 17kms away, holds its annual book sale. The Fishermen's Hall, a modern building with a significant floor space is cleared of the usual furniture; trestle tables covered with boxes of books replacing them.
The books are donations from folks, like us, who have a perchant for buying books and running out of space in which to store them. Already we are the proud, if slightly embarrassed owners of four bookcases , all of which are overflowing purchased over a three year period. This year I forgot to sort out any spares, perhaps because I really do not want to lose any?
The doors open at 9.00am. We arrived ten minutes before the designated opening time to find several people, all armed with large bags, sorting through the offering.
It is on such occasions that a people watcher finds much enjoyment! There are the considerate folk who do not stand chattering to their neighbour about what is for lunch; there are others who start up a random conversation [about a particular book] adding a delicious piece of 'information' about the author, or when they first read the book. Then there are the bulldozers; those who take up too much space, hog the boxes, give anyone who dares to peek into the box that is their considered prize at least until a choice is made. Most of us peer into the boxes wondering if perhaps that particular book has been read sometime in the distant past.
The payment of $1 per book is cheap! And if a mistake has been made in the choice, that book can easily be recycled next Easter!
We came home with 30 books between us; many hours and days of reading through the winter months.
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