Today I spent a few hours at the library. I love that place. Rows upon rows of cookbooks. Books about journaling and books about food. Books about sewing and yoga and cats. I have yet to see most of the books in that place, and I’m glad, because it means years of library-loving to come.
I tend to start out looking at the new books, in case they have the newest from Jacques Pepin or Diana Abu-Jaber. I move next to the fiction, sometimes just grabbing a book off the shelf, sometimes looking for a recommendation from a blog or a friend. The last book I grabbed off the shelf was Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya. I’m halfway through it, and I’m loving it.
Next is up two flights of stairs to the nonfiction. Oh, how I love nonfiction. It’s so fascinating. I float toward the cookbooks, looking for anything new, anything relevant to my food interests of the week…cookies for the bed and breakfast, vegetarian entrees for home, soups in the winter. I can find an amazing book on any row of nonfiction. Today I found one about journaling.
Finally, I end my afternoon with a visit to the second floor, where back issues of popular magazines are kept. I thumb through Gourmet and Bon Appetit, Saveur and Fine Cooking, Martha Stewart Living and Real Simple. I write down ideas, make copies of recipes that interest me, and just read, read, read.
I always feel so happy downstairs, checking out my books, because I know that I will have hours of good reading at home ahead of me, and hours of library-browsing to come next week.
It’s my favorite place.