When your attic is in three parts: the attic, the way-up attic, and the way-back attic, it's not hard to lose track of certain items in your possession.
Looking for something this afternoon (I can't remember what now), I found myself in the way-back attic, my head between the dangling light bulb and the box I was digging in making it awkward to know exactly what I was finding.
It was a box mostly of books from my grandmother's house, including a Somerset Maugham reader that I'm happy to have found. This tattered, epic volume of BYRON'S POETICAL WORKS, though, hadn't been hers. At least I think not. Though I barely remember having seen it before, my suspicion is it came from one of the Friends of the Library book sales, and found itself tucked into the attic for safekeeping. Despite the rag-taggy condition, isn't it handsome? Despite the foxing, aren't these engraved portraits wonderful?
And the gold embossing and marbling - simply delicious! I don't like to handle it too much, for fear of causing bits to fall off, but I'm glad to let it see the light of day again. At least for a little while.
Saturday, before the rains came, we had a picnic just outside the kitchen door. This is the best time of year for such things - no bugs yet! Well, a few flies, but moving the cat food dishes (empty thought they were) a couple yards away distracted them from our repast.