Yesterday I went to the library. I finished the book I was reading (The Snow Child -- it was soooooo good!!!) and wanted another one ... or two .... or three. I browsed through the fiction section and selected several titles but felt my pile was not complete. You know that feeling? I went looking up and down the rows of non-fiction feeling pressured by the 15 minutes until closing time announcement. I chose a couple books about far away places; one about Switzerland, which I haven't visited since my honeymoon in 1992, unless you count the time I was in Zurich airport with newborn baby Brian en route back to Krakow in 2003; and one about Afghanistan. Husband is considering bidding on an unaccompanied tour there and has to decide in the next few weeks. The jury is still out and we're not sure if he'll bid it or not. Then I spotted this book, about Easter Island. I have recently been curious about and want to visit both Stonehenge and Easter Island. And the pyramids in Egypt and the Sphinx, but it's not really all that safe for American tourists there right now so that'll have to wait. Well, and there's the issue of time and money and kids about to go off to college and all that. Meh. Maybe he should bid either UK or Chile? I already know both of those languages. That's a plus.
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