Today at a branch library I attempted to find three different B.C. novels and found none of them. Fair enough it’s a branch library I don’t expect the shelves can hold everything, but my eyes caught at least 3 memoirs by American politicians.  It really seems quite remote what ends up on the shelves. I imagine popularity and taste and even desire might dictate.  Last week I had better luck and left with five copies of Handyman magazine and the Women’s Guide to Woodworking or some such.

Today I did nab a nifty book about Steveston and, literally,  a sculpture of a book by Anne Carson that on tactile grounds alone more than compensates.

I heard telephone reports of two happening rainstorms on Cortes Island latter nights that I wish I could have heard. (mainly).