Today, he said he was building me something special.
He built me a wraparound library.
"What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you feel like it. That doesn't happen much, though." (J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye)
Today, he said he was building me something special.
He built me a wraparound library.
It is a 60-kilometer drive from where I live to the Book Keeper’s shop. I had to marshal my team and get them out of the house on this sunny Australia Day to visit the bookstore I’ve been pining to see the last four months.
I also had been following the owner’s blog. I am being presumptuous saying this: "I’ve got a kindred soul!"
I dart from one exquisite book-filled shelf to another. I call my son’s attention to the children’s section while avoiding eye contact with my lovely husband who is displaying his look of consternation.
My son hands me his books. Then he drifts with his father to the bakery next door.
They know I’ll be in a distant land for some time.
The Book Keeper Book Shop
Shop 4/ 1 Dawson, Strathalbyn
South Australia 5255
Hours: Tuesday-Saturday 10.00 a.m. – 4.00 p.m.
Email: tbkstrathalbyn@gmail.com
Mobile: 0438 847 329
“The love of siblings is the most unconditional love of all. It is pure and loyal. A love without demand, without expectations or pretense.”
― Anoir Ou-Chad
Us, girls at work, trooped to this lovely place to celebrate forged friendships. Ending the year with cocktails lifted from epic book passages (can you tell me if there's anything more wonderful than that?)
A bestie sent photos of the beach where she was.
Her reply? “I actually have 'Circe' with me right now.”
![]() |
| Cabalatian Island, Sual, Pangasinan Philippines |
I recall 2009, the year I embarked on (another) master’s degree, as a year of multilinear regressions, decision making under uncertainty, cost benefit analysis, and writing up pages and pages of policy papers backed by quantitative evidence. I was sleeping an average of four hours, six days a week.
I made sure, however, that I’d read something different, uplifting, bizarre, at least one day each week. It was a year of Haruki Murakamis, Graham Greenes, and lots of memoirs and biographies.
One of the books that particularly struck me that year was Randy Pausch’s “Last Lecture”. Coincidentally, Pausch was a professor at the university where I was studying at that time and who sadly passed away a year before. The book made such an impact on me that in the graduation speech that I delivered at the end of 2009, I quoted from the "Last Lecture": “Brick walls are there for a reason. And once you get over them – even if someone practically had to throw you over – it can be helpful to others to tell them how you did it.”
I have probably re-read the book three or four times and different parts of it resonated more strongly than others at various points the last few years. These days, I enjoy giving a copy of the book to welcome new hires in our organization (after all, this is the university where Pausch used to teach). It is a beautiful memoir full of optimism despite the circumstances under it was written, on overcoming challenges, the utter joy of doing what you love, achieving dreams, and being true to your core. But what I treasure most about this book is that it drives home the point of the finiteness of life and of being made acutely aware of that finiteness.
I am not sure what our new hires do with the book but I was immensely thrilled when one morning, I got an email from one of my favourite professors pointing me to his book review.
(Scout’s honour, getting employees to legitimately want to work overtime after an induction is not one of the reasons in handing out the “Last Lecture”. But I share your sentiments Zbig, our heart is in the work.)
That was not a head fake.
These lockdowns and social distancing protocols have spawned various sorts of online challenges. I’ve revisited my Book Challenge a year ago and realised that the year has brought changes to the list of books (perhaps because the last few months have shown us what it is really like to be in isolation) that I will take with me should I be stranded on an island, get sent to the moon, or quarantined indefinitely.