After a vigorous and fun yoga class this afternoon, in which Bob focused on fixing my hip (which consequently feels as though it is part of someone else, slightly achy, almost disembodied) and took us on a field trip to the banisters outside the yoga studio, where we did an impossible twist not in any yoga book, I went to the library. I hadn't been to the public library in some time. Generally, it is frustrating to go there because if I have something in particular in mind, and I often do, they are sure not to have it. But because I just wanted something, almost anything, to read, it was rather nice to visit the small library in town today. I decided to read about food. I figured they would have a reasonable selection of books about that, and they did, though Anthony Bourdain's books were not in. I think they have all been stolen. That tends to happen in the public library lately. But I got some MFK Fisher and an Indian cookbook I have been poring through.
I had an idea for about the yoga book. But uncharacteristically, I'm not going to tell you what it was till I see what comes of it (probably nothing, but one never knows). It will be about 8 weeks before I know.
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