Today I visited a bookshop located in an old house. I rambled through rooms that seemed to be set together randomly; doors opened in unexpected places; it seemed unending. I kept turning a corner and seeing more rooms. And each was lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves.
I could smell the fragrance of old books even as I walked towards the front door. I almost hyperventilated, trying to breathe it in so my heart and memory would be filled with it. There were books I would have wept over, and spent all my money on, if I was still homeschooling a young student ... a wonderful big vintage van Loom book! ... a beautiful set of Shakespeare's plays .. and a charmingly illustrated volume of Washington Irving's Tales of the Alhambra, which I had to bring home. And now I am watching North and South because of it.
I remember learning about the Alhambra years ago as I prepared lessons on it from lovely vintage sources. Such wondrous days. Really, I can never get enough of education; of history; of all the old tales. I don't wish to live in past times - but I do wish people lived now in a nobler, more beautiful, more romantic way, so that we were making gorgeous tales of history for the generations to come.