A red-letter today, on the slow road out of Covid-19 hibernation. I was able to go, in person, to a bookshop, an actual, physical bookshop. Better still, it was my wonderful local independent The Edinburgh Bookshop. They’ve done a great job during lockdown providing sanity via click and collect, but it’s not the same – of course it’s not the same – as being able to chat to the staff and inhale the aroma of book. For the first time in 100 days, I was able to look at, touch and buy real ink and paper books, feel the weight of them in my bag and carry them home to the sofa where I now live. Heaven.
Posted by: gillarbuthnott | July 2, 2020
Gill Arbuthnott: Children's Author 
Leave a Reply