Books, books, books!

Every day, between 9 and 5, Cambridge's main square fills up with market stalls and sellers of fresh vegetables, flowers, bread, cheeses, scarves, old fashioned candy, tourist traps from Cambridge and Oxford sweatshirts (in the same stall! utter heresy) to socks with the British flag on them, and secondhand books. While I can usually be talked into marching over to purchase some fresh raspberries or still-warm bread, it is the last item that usually draws my attention. Yesterday, Jessica and I spent about an hour wandering from bookstall to bookstall, debating about whether we should buy this or that book- 'of course you should, because it's a beautiful edition of a classic, and for only a pittance!' 'Then again, the suitcase weighed exactly 49 lbs when I came to the UK....'
Despite some self-restraint, we both returned to Basing House feeling triumphant and slightly guilty, hands full (in my case) of Dickens, Scott, obscure Agatha Christies, and the British version of the 7th Harry Potter book (which, the flyleaf informs me, is also available in Gaelic, Latin, and Ancient Greek). I put in an obligatory few hours reading JSTOR articles for the research paper due Tuesday, then abandoned myself to the enjoyment of my purchases. The 7th Harry Potter book being the largest and the one, therefore, that will not be accompanying me as carry-on literature for the trip home, and being in a somewhat whimsical mood, I proceeded to sit down after dinner and read the entire thing from cover to cover. Perhaps I'll start in on the Dickens today after lunch. I figure I can afford to indulge my literary whims for the time being- while the bookstalls nearest me still have books in English available for purchase, and before law books bury all thoughts of wandwork and invisibility cloaks irretrievably!