The weather is so much warmer today, sunning weather at 34°. Some of the snow is melting. I can hear the sounds of the drips falling from the roof. The sun is shining. The blue sky is cloudless. The air is so still even the smallest branches don’t move. The dogs are out longer. It is a lovely day.

When I was a kid, I used to go to the library often. I loved the children’s side. The chairs were wooden. Some were captains’ chairs with arms. They were all around the long tables. None of the shelves were up very high. I remember the science fiction section had two of the tallest shelves. My other favorite shelves, the folklore shelves, were short, about to my waist. The librarian’s area was in the middle of the room and faced the door. The librarian was iconic. She was an older woman who wore a flowered dress and those old lady shoes with clunky heels. Her hair was in a bun. She didn’t tolerate noise or conversation. She’d shush us. At the desk, she’d take the books I wanted then stamp the due date on the sheet glued to the back page. I always brought my books back early. I didn’t want to risk the penny a day late fee.

I do like to read real books, to hold them in my hands. I like turning pages. I like seeing my progress, how many pages I have read and how many more I have to read. My iPad has many books. All of them were free to download. I go there when I have run out of paper books.

I loved when I traveled. Books were prized. In hostels books were a hot commonly to be traded. I used to hunt bookstores selling books in English. Mostly I’d find one in a big city. I’d carry the books in my backpack and read them on long trips in buses or trains. In Ghana, the official language is English. My town had a store which sold books. I bought several of the African Writers Series, one of each that they sold there. I sent them home. I read every one of them. I even chose Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe for my English classes, in Ghana and here. The University of Legon in Accra had a good bookstore. Just after I was sworn in as a volunteer and before I left to go upcountry to my town, I bought several books. They were a treasure trove. My town, Bolga, didn’t have much, but it did have a library. I always thought myself blessed.

This entry was posted on February 3, 2026 at 2:31 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.