Playing hookey.

It is always an extra treat to take time out on a work day. (There's something else I would miss if I closed the shop!)

My car gets used so little that I thought it was due a treat too, so it went through the car wash, an experience I hate. The big solid blower thing that looms up last, following the contours of the car (hopefully) up and over, scares me horribly. I always release the brake just in case the sensor has failed especially for me, and sit with my palms sweating. No exaggeration.

That over I drove gently through to Fochabers to pick up Donald who was still having his breakfast, so I joined him for the coffee and toast. He was wearing a Death Valley T shirt that his daughter brought him back years ago from her visit. More than just a visit; she and her boyfriend walked naked the length (or was it the breadth? never mind) of it. Good gracious! I would love to meet this young woman; she evidently has character. Whilst he got himself ready I browsed happily amongst his books, longing to kidnap all of them, especially the leather-bound beauties. He recently acquired 48 volumes of fairy tales in French. That's quite an awesome collection of tales. I have been trying to think of anything comparable that has ever been published in English and so far failed.

We drove to Portsoy and had a drink in the pub on the harbour. Four old chaps were leaning against the bar, a grumpy looking barmaid slouching the other side watching them. Two of them got into a slanging match. It seemed only to take a sentence or two to get there. Maybe it's an on-going argument that they continue each time they meet, beginning where they left off. Not satisfactory for incomers - we couldn't find out what it was about. Eventually silence fell. They supped with their shouders hunched against each other and finally three of them shuffled out. Donald whispered 'It's like something out of 'The Last of the Summer's Wine!"

No food available in that pub so we found a hotel and feasted gloriously on smoked haddock, mash, poached egg and cheese sauce. A sort of beefed up version of Oeuf Benedict.

Then to see Wilma at Bookends where she and I bemoaned the lack of trade. I was reasured to talk to another seller who has been through the 'I'm going to close' time often in the past. I found nothing much to buy but we had a great chat. Wilma (my age?) has just found herself a new man. I heard that another lady bookseller also managed to find herself a succession of men. Maybe I'm too picky. (There is one chap.... but it's no good; I just don't fancy him.) I wonder if the pentacle Wilma wears has got anything to do with her bewitching charms?

Donald has just rung up pretending to be an officer from the Banff Constabulary. Yesterday as we stood looking across the little harbour, to give Donald time for a smoke between the pub and our next stop, a young black labrador that seemed to be with a family, ran down the precipitous rocks to the shore and into the water where it stood looking hopefully up at the children who had been playing with it, now more than twenty feet above it. The family went back to their car but the dog remained standing, up to it's hocks in water, head cocked in anticipation. We watched for five minutes or more and still it stood like a statue. I was torn between laughter and anxiety for the poor silly creature. It did have a collar on but - well, if Donald hadn't dragged me away to find something to eat I might have brought it home with me. As we didn't see the going of it it may still be there....

After all this excitement in Portsoy we visited Tom at Abra Antiques. I'm afraid he would have been disapponted by our visit. I was not in buying mode and Donald isn't impressed by Tom - who is the F.A.R.T.S. sort of shop keeper (Follows Around Recommending The Stock) Anyway these days Tom doesn't have any books worth looking at. He is by trade an antiques dealer and has begun making jewelry from Victorian silver beads. I bought some ear-rings for my daughter-in-law and that's all I did buy. As we were about to leave Tom told us that he had a millionaire coming to look at a folder of Japanese prints, costumes and illustrations of life in Japan in the 19th century (I think... could be wrong there, but historically interesting anyway) Donald was intrigued by this and asked to be contacted if Tom didn't get a sale. So who knows what may come of our visit after all.