Wish I Were There

My sister is up on a cold, dark, possibly rainy mountainside right now, and has probably just pitched her tent amidst the stunning surroundings of the Howqua River and had a nice hot shower to wash away the mud deposited by a day of trail riding. Soon there’ll be good food and a fire and chatter and horses moving in the background, but I’m not there *sigh*. I should be there, and I was so looking forward to that weekend ride, which we planned last year, but circumstances would otherwise.

On the other hand, my ‘to be read’ stack just grew significantly taller. As compensation for missing out on a horse fix (boo-hoo) I got a buzz buying a few books at the annual Clunes Booktown get-together. It was, as always, heaven on earth for bibliophiles, with building after building filled with fictional and non-fictional trash and treasure, plenty of bargains for literary shopaholics and the miserly as well as pricey stuff for serious investors adding to their collections, and everywhere, there were crowds of beaming people with bags and boxes loaded with their finds. The Punch and Judy show had the kids howling with glee again, there were musicians to entertain us as we browsed, and there was plenty of lovely food, though some of the frazzled-looking caterers had seriously underestimated the voracious appetites built up by we mighty book hunters when we’re on the prowl and were running out of provisions already around 14.00. They’ll be kicking themselves for days over those lost profits. Me, I'd have had a truckload of backup supplies on hand. Anyway, there were also lots of arts and crafts to give one’s eyes a reprieve from scanning kilometers of book spines.

Throw in a book shop cat whose lashing tail told me she was seriously displeased about the many folk invading her territory but she was darned if she was going to move for them, and it was a fun day out.

And my day wasn't entirely unequine. I did see many horses and ponies on the drive to and from Clunes, and just as I was dropped off at home, two local lasses rode right past my house on their fine steeds. I mention this because Polly, who was waiting for me in the front yard, could not believe her eyes. She backed off, arched her back, hissed, and crouched ready to attack. The girls laughed at her antics. The horses remained utterly unaware of her existence.