Christmas Recycled

Just before Christmas I sat looking at my shelves of books that I can no longer read.  Don and I spent many happy hours wandering round second hand bookshops looking for something to add to our collection.  We used to say if we lost one another while in a strange town we must head for the nearest bookshop where we were sure to meet again.  We found many gems in unexpected places.  I once found a book of old photos of our home town Folkestone in Totnes in Devon and Don bought a book on Ootacamond, a remote hill station he had visited while in India in WW2,  in a shop in Pickering in Yorkshire.  During the 1970s he was commuting from Folkestone to London each day.  This was at the time of the IRA bombings and also frequent disruptions of train services by strikes. Consequently, he was often delayed and , indeed did not know if he would get home.  He took pyjamas and a change of clothes to the office in case he had to sleep there.  In fact, he managed to get home each night though he was often very much delayed, a one hour 20 minute journey taking several hours.  He grew to know Waterloo and Cannon Street stations very well and on the book shelves are many beautiful books bought at the "Remainder" counter of Smiths station bookstalls.
I digress.  Back to Christmas.  I decided to give my nearest and dearest a book each from collection, each according to his or her interest.  This may sound a bit mean but I truly love my books and have always found it hard to part with them.  And I am doing my bit for recycling.