There are practically more french books in our house now than there are english ones.
While that's obviously not actually true at all, it is true that the french section of our bookshelf is slowly oozing sideways, mostly because
a) every time I go to my favourite second hand book shop (very rarely, but still) I always get a french book or two these days, and because
b) the dude who lives upstairs just gave me a gigantic pile of his comics (Asterix, Tintin and some other cartoon duo who I've never heard of). Which was lovely of him, because they are right about my speed at the moment and because I really love Asterix. Tintin I don't know so well and he seems to be more olden-days-style-racist than I prefer, but ... well, it's all good practice. Plus it's handy that he (the neighbour who loaned me the books) lives so close, because I would really have struggled under the weight of them all if I had had to walk more than about 15 steps.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment