For Saturday we again had loose plans, if plans could be dignified with such a name. Simply spending time together was precious enough.
bunny_hugger, being very kind to one of my manias, brought me towards campus and specifically to a used book store right near the college. I love wandering around used book stores, as anyone who's been around me five minutes may guess, and a good used book store is all the more wonderful. This was another good used book store, with the many tight-packed racks going back the length of the city block, and even a downstairs section we didn't get around to, and Pogo books in abundance.
She noticed a curious gap that I honestly didn't see until she pointed it out: in the Philosophy section there wasn't any Kant. That seems a very curious gap in their supply and I can't offer a satisfactory explanation for that. But we spent a satisfying time looking over the childrens' books, finding no new treasures to compare with the Tales of Fatty Coon. Along the way though I did find a large Treasure Book of Children's Literature, an anthology of stories for kids from decades ago themselves collecting stories from an impressive miscellanety of sources, including a chapter from Felix Salten's Bambi. I wasn't sure if the book would be considered quite suitable anymore for my niece as a source of reading material (or to be read to from). I did buy it as a gift to my mother, who's really gotten into the grandmother business, and if she wants to read to her granddaughter from it that's her business.
And we stopped in a new book store too, to pick up a magazine and to look for a particular set of Christmas cards which bunny_hugger had seen and liked but did not find again, in accord with the rules of that sort of thing.
We did go out to eat, at the Ethiopian restaurant we'd eaten at back in February. It was under renovation back then; this was our first experience with the new place and it's pretty well-configured now. They also have a nice little niche for a live band, and there was one playing, although by the time we got there we were in the latter half of the pretty loose concert. They'd had a spiced tea available, which was very welcome after the cold outside; I'd started drinking it relatively slowly, but on discovering it was set up as a serve-yourself refills from a dispensor just beside our booth I went for more, drinking I'd estimate 300 mugs full by the time we finished our vegetable-sampler plate for two.
And we visited the new book store where bunny_hugger occasionally works, primarily to seek those cards again, with no greater success. Still, the looking around was fun, and we stopped in the cafe for a dessert and looking around at the locally-produced artwork, and for me to utterly fail at expressing what was good about the Eleventh Doctor. (She hasn't seen most of the new season yet.) Well, it's not easy, especially when so much of it is Matt Smith's charm.
Back home --- and I'm not sure this didn't happen Friday night, come to think of it, but the Saturday report feels shorter --- bunny_hugger's rabbit did something extremely rare and which I'd never seen before. He's apparently decided I'm not any noteworthy menace, as he sprawled out in an extremely relaxed manner. Extraordinarily relaxed, in fact, laying on his side with unblinking eyes open in a pose that bunny_hugger had described as his ``laying there dead'' pose. It was uncannily lifeless: even his breath was slow enough that it was easy to see why her mother had been distressed to catch him in that deep relaxation once.
Well, I spoiled it, getting up and looking closer and making him nervous enough to come out of this extreme relaxation. I apologized but he only went back to normal lounging around the rest of my visit at least. But it was a strange and rare experience.
Trivia: London's Rainbow Coffee Shop, in Fleet Street, was prosecuted in 1657 for being ``a great nuisance and prejudice to the neighborhood'', with complaints about ``evil smells'' and the danger of fire. Source: London: The Biography, Peter Ackroyd.
Currently Reading: Mars 3-D: A Rover's-Eye View Of The Red Planet, Jim Bell.