I broke one of my own rules today. I always give both my husband and son a book for their birthdays (and generally undies too, but that's another story).
But today was Charles' birthday and some time in the middle of the day I realised there was not a book in the gift collection. Nothing at all to enjoy between the covers.
I decided this was an error that needed to be rectified so I found myself in West End at Bent Books, one of the most fascinating second hand book stores in the area.
Bent Books is old West End to me. There's nothing shiny and new here. It's an eclectic mix of styles, a bit of a jumble and has a very bohemian feel. And it's packed to the rafters, literally.
To get to the biography section, I had to go behind the counter out into a bit of a lane and into something like a big shed. There was a Kennedy biography. Sorted
Charles likes his biographies. P.J. O'Rourke once said: "Always read something that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it." Charles will be okay on that front. I'm pretty sure the chick lit on my bedside table would not have people marvelling at my intellect should my time come. I'd look tragically shallow but as J.W. Eagan said "don't judge a book by its movie".
Anyway, hopefully that's something I won't have to worry about for some time.
For now I have done my duty. I've done birthday presents buy the book.