The move is, thank god, pretty much done. We picked the hottest, nastiest weekend to move all of our possessions up to third-floor apartments. Even now, just sitting on my bed typing this, I'm sweating. I truly hate humidity.
I'm reading this amazing book that a friend recommended to me: "Sixpence House: Lost in a Town of Books" by Paul Collins. It's an apparently true account of the author's move (along with his wife and infant son) to a small town on the Britian/Wales border called Hay-on-Wye. The town is overrun with booksellers, with 1500 inhabitants and 40 bookstores. Collins, who is an antique book lover, blends his experiences trying to buy a house there with anecdotes about being an American moving to Britain, a first-time father, a passionate reader of books, and also with amazing amounts of fascinating arcane trivia. I love it when people exhibit an evident love of knowledge, especially if it doesn't seem to be at the service of any practical need. I was grinning ear-to-ear last night after reading the first 25 pages. Highly recommended.