A bookish weekend

I feel like it has to be a very good sign when you walk up to the register with a book, and the guy behind the counter says, "No! I wanted to read that! Now I'll have to order it again!"

To which I replied, "Tough! I'm buying it!"

Yesterday I went up to Taos for the wool festival. I managed to restrain myself to just one skein of very pretty sock yarn. But I also bought a book at Moby Dickens, the little indie bookshop there. I've bought a book there almost every time I've gone to Taos, because I like supporting indie bookshops. Also I like new books.

This one was one of five new books I got this week. I got The Casual Vacancy and John Hodgman's boxed set (both from Amazon. I like supporting indie bookshops, but I also like free shipping, and that I can buy books and odd-sized knitting needles at the same time). And the one from Moby Dickens is called My Mother She Killed Me and my Father He Ate Me: Forty New Fairy Tales. Which I couldn't resist buying, because it's exactly the sort of things I keep writing. Plus, it includes about a dozen authors I adore.

So I look forward to hopefully reading those sometime in the near future, after I finish the big, fat book I'm already reading, and the other ones in my pile to read as well.

The pile has gotten very large lately. I'm reading just as fast as I can. With breaks for knitting and Doctor Who.

Oh, and movies. I'm going to go see The Perks of Being a Wallflower later, based on yet another book I re-read recently. It's been a good couple of weeks for books, is what I'm saying.

Fun fact:

Whenever I'm walking down a long, empty hallway, I almost always get an urge to do a cartwheel.

My office is at the end of a longish hallway, and most of the offices are empty, since a bunch of people got moved to a different building, and the rest are in meetings all the time.

I can't tell you how many days I've had to consciously suppress the urge to do a cartwheel at work.

So far I've only done it once.