Today, B. and I took advantage of Christmas break and walked around town together. (Amazingly, we weren’t the only ones, it was packed. It took us three tries to find a place to have some coffee, as all our favorite spots were filled up tight. Which makes me far less charitable to other shoppers, I have to say. Peace and goodwill to all men, until they impede my coffee-drinking progress, apparently.) We wandered from store to store, making a stop at the library (yay, new books to read! Richard Russo’s That Old Cape Magic is now lying next to me) and our local chain bookstore. And there we struck gold, as they were having a “75% off” sale. Do you know how cheap books become when they’re 75% off? I kept looking at my phone’s calculator in disbelief: am I really only going to pay 3 euros for this book? (I kind of doubted my math skills – seriously, simple arithmetic is not my forte – until we went to the register and our discount was more than sixty euros. That was a very good feeling.)
This was our haul:
The big hardcover book is a real treasure, the food photography within is so gorgeous I’m seriously considering buying an extra copy and cutting out several pages to hang framed on our still bare walls. I know, I know, cutting up books is morally questionable, but I might just do it anyway.
And the best part? At the register, B. surprised me by telling me those books were his late Christmas present to me. Wasn’t that nice of him?