Didn't I.

Everywhere I look someone's trying to sell me a Kindle,a Wimble or a Dimble,whatever,so I've been online to find out what it's all about.It looks to me as if it's just what those I.T. people have threatened us with for years,an electronic library.And if all it does is give me any number of books at any one time,I don't see the point.
If I take a cruise to the coast or a ride up into the High Peaks I'll have my saddlebags with me and plenty of room for a real book.For a weekend in the Lakes the sissybar pack will have space enough for a couple of books.Even for a week I could still use The Angel,two and it would have to be JB,but then I'll have room for the five volumes of Plato's Dialogues.My problem is that I love the feel,the smell and the look of real books.
A few weeks ago I was in Caernarfon,and I could smell a book shop.We passed by burger bars,chinese take aways,kebab houses and still the smell of print was in the air.We turned down an alley,and there it was,a second hand bookshop.Even as I was telling myself,you have books enough at home and Princess was telling me,NO! I knew I would give in to the temptation.We went into the castle,climbed up and down towers,walked along endless battlements until I couldn't face another stone staircase,so I went outside and sat on the wall.
Somehow I found myself walking down that alley,and it was then I succumbed.Alistair Cooke's ,The Americans.Well it needed a home,and I had a space on a book shelf,and,well I had to.Didn't I.