It’s autumn, a season that feels like a new beginning to me. For some, it’s a new school, teachers and new friends to meet. For others, it’s the end of summer and the start of another fall and into winter, ending the hot days and beginning the cold evenings.
Earlier in the spring of this year, my parents filled my car with boxes of my old school notes. In total, 11 cardboard boxes. The boxes had been stored perfectly for years in their basement; it’s a testimony to their cellar that the paper was dry and crisp – not a spot of mould on them. They contained every note, project, essay and story that I wrote from grade 6 to grade 13.
I do not have a basement (yet, again – see my previous blog) so the boxes resided in my hallway. They sat for months there because frankly, I was too scared to open them. But the other week with summer gone and in the midst of a new season, I decided to deal with my past and not have it clutter the hallway, like piles of dirty dishes on the counter. Plus it’s difficult to negotiate to the laundry room with my boxes.
This past weekend was another weekend of all things books. My partner and I are always buying books, at used book stores (like the Net Shed in Meaford or Williamsford Bookstore and Cafe in Williamsford), Goodwill, local independent bookstores (like Wordsworth Books, uptown Waterloo), and popular bookstores (like Chapters).
