📚 Purchased in Annapolis Royal, NS
From Joann’s Chocolate Shop & Cafe: A charming little cafe where the owner makes her own chocolates and candies. And as if that weren’t enough, she has a goodly number of both used and new books.
Growing Pains by Emily Carr: this was our bedtime reading and a terrific description of long-ago places and times.
A Life Spent Listening by Hassan Khalili
This is still on my to-read shelf. I like self-help books, and was interested in this one as the author is an Iranian immigrant who practiced psychotherapy in Newfoundland for 40 years – interested in finding out how or if his Iranian culture influenced his work with Canadian patients and vice versa.
From Bainton’s Tannery Outlet/Mad Hatter Bookstore: Props to Google Maps for finding this store for me; Bing and Apple Maps found the Mad Hatter Wineshop next door, but did not identify these establishments – which are an odd couple on the face of it. The tannery and leather goods occupy one side of this rather snug store, with new books on the other side. What struck me about their book selection was its strong focus on local culture, specifically Annapolis Royal history and culture; many of the books were attractively designed objects ideal for holding in the hand.
It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time by Annabel Townsend : Not Nova Scotian at all, more Saskatchewan. I bought it thinking we could use it for bedtime reading; it was lightly amusing, but not for us.
Nymphalis Antiopa by Peter B. Wyman
A small book of seven literary short stories. By “literary,” I mean the stories contain elegant writing and description, not much plot, some modest narrative experimentation, and their temperature never rises high enough to lift them off the page. Still, a couple of stories stuck with me. “Broken Angel” follows the police chief as he patrols the blocks of town devastated by the “Great Fire” of 1921; as I read, I remembered street names and landmarks that are key reference points in the story. The last story, “Radio Silence,” follows the narrator as he takes a winter hike along a particularly treacherous stretch of woods lining the shore along the Bay of Fundy and discovers a World War II legacy gifted to him by the strait. It’s a story of time passing, of rhythms, and of resting places.
Note: I was unable to find where this book could be ordered online; searching on the book title yields page after page of butterfly pictures, surprise, surprise. It was likely privately printed. If you’re interested, the author includes his email address on the book as wymanpe@gmail.com
