My biblionautic chums and friends.
A sunny Thursday lunch time. For some a chance to relax, go for a stroll, for others perhaps a lazy glass glass of something with ice in it.
Not for me though. This lunch finds me liberating a box (of wood), drilling whole holes in bits of it in preparation for another bout of burying a book.
So, you may ask, why a box of wood?... Well, dear reader, I can answer that in one word. Foxes. On a previous occasion I buried a full leather bound book, the last I saw of the book was of it being carried of by a couple of foxes intent on each having a mouthful of leather.
Lid secured with nails. I would like to see them try this time!
Once again, the book is mine, I bound it etc, etc,etc.
Please note.... there are other studios/binderies/ doing stuff, spelling and grammar. Please further note, the opinion of the author may change at any moment. This is due to having an open mind of sorts.
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