If you’re my husband, you don’t need to read any more of this post. Really, there’s nothing interesting here. Right? Go on, shoo.
Okay then. I’m in the process of getting a second pair of glasses. I only have one pair, and with the amount of traveling I’ll be doing in the coming weeks (both for the holidays and prepping for the upcoming move), I’m just a bit freaked out over the possibility of leaving my glasses behind somewhere. At this point, if I’m on the computer or reading or quilting too long, my eyes get tired and I really need those glasses. And if I’m not doing one of those three things, I’m doing the others.
Weeks ago, I went to an optician’s office with hubby, who also is getting new glasses. On the way out, he asked if I wanted to go into Half Price Boo (it’s really ‘Books,’ but the first one we saw was at night and the lights were burned out in the ‘ks.’ It stuck. Be warned, it may stick with you, too.). I said “No, I have too many books right now.” That stack from World Fantasy Con is still impressively large and imposing. He looked very surprised but agreed, and off we went.
Two days ago I went to the same optician’s office and looked at frames, comparing them to what I already have (I want a larger lens area this time). I came away with three good options and an appointment for later. As I pulled into the building’s garage, my phone rang. I’d left my glasses behind.
See, this is exactly why I was in the market for another pair. But — I don’t have another pair yet. And I couldn’t make it back before the office closed for the night. So, no writing or editing that evening, as I planned. And no quilting. And … well, let’s say it was a long evening.
At lunch the next day I went and picked up my glasses. My old glasses, not any new ones. First I need that eye exam, which isn’t ’til next week. As I walked outside in the splendid sunny 50-degree weather, I didn’t want to jump back into my car and run back inside. I wanted to play. Just a little. Half Price Boo beckoned. I gave in and went inside. Just looking, after all. No harm in that.
I wended my way to the SF/Fantasy section. Small. Well, that’s a good thing. They’ll have nothing for me this way. I wandered to the beginning, starting with the A’s. I saw a book, put my hand out to draw it out. A loud conversation had me look away, and when my hand touched a book, it was the wrong one. What had I picked? Curious, I read the title, and the author, no, authors — Stephen Brust and Emma Bull.
Well! That book I obviously had to buy. I mean, it was fate, karma, that my hand drew it forth. And it was only a couple bucks. I pulled it to me protectively. OK, only one book. That’s not so bad, I thought. I kept looking.
There were two copies of N. K. Jemisin’s The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms. The color of the spine, then the image on the cover, drew me to look more closely. The teaser copy inside sold me. I’d been meaning to read it anyway, and it was so cheap … . Another book snuggled in my arm. Nearby (they are alphabetical by author, you know) Charles de Lint’s name snagged me like a catfish on a line. Forests of the Heart — I hadn’t read that one. Not yet. And I love de Lint.
Sigh. So, I entered to look and left with three books to add to the towering stack. Last night, when it came time to pick up a new book, de Lint’s Forests of the Heart sucked me away from the WFC selectee. Well, so be it. A good purchase. And I had my old glasses again, so I could read.