Happiness is a morning spent at the Lifeline Bookfest.
Dad and I have a standing date- twice a year we get up early and trot off to Bookfest- me to stock up the bookshelves and he to stock up the CD stacks.
Afterwards we like to have breakfast to discuss our purchases and congratulate ourselves on our excellent taste in literature/ opera. We also like to nut out the finer details of Bookfest Etiquette. There are certain cardinal sins that should not be broached- leaning all over the rows of books so other people can’t see the titles, pushing your way into the queues with your enormous trolley and throwing as many books as possible in without knowing what you’re grabbing, taking out a book and returning it upside-down… honestly, people are so rude. I think there used to be more pushing and shoving in previous years, though. One year Dad went for a big morning run around Southbank and returned to the convention centre in time for the 8am opening. He reckons he had plenty of space around the CD tables- he has not confirmed whether he was physically dripping sweat onto the CDs, though.
I got a pretty good haul this year. The saddest thing is seeing books that I already own, and wanting to buy them again because they’re so awesome. I want to grab the person next to me and say “Have you read The Unusual Life of Tristan Smith? You must! Take it! It’s $3.00!!”
I’m not usually very spendy, and especially not now that our new house is about to be built. But I can justify a big spend on books- Mark says I can take it out of the insulation budget.