An unusual occurrence, another post without bugs…well, almost!
It has been quite a while since I had an outing with my little brother, and this Saturday, at the very crux of the year when my days become extremely busy, we finally got together for a (half) day on the town. We started with lunch at O’Byrne’s Pub on Whyte Avenue, where we took in the traditional fish and chips — with a pint of Irish for me, and for my brother (an accursed teetotaler) two cups of cream and sugar heavily laced with coffee. We found ourselves in a snug, somewhat distant from the music, which suited us fine, because it was loud and there was none o’ the Celtic init. We talked about the old days, read the pub decor that was scattered over the wall, and had a generally good time, without spilling even a drop, thanks be to God. Now content, and the bill paid and the staff will oiled, we continued on our path.
Our path led us to second-hand bookstores (The Untitled Bookshop, 10516 – 82Ave.), where in the first I picked up an illustrated volume on the Insects of the World by Walter Linsenmaier. This is a brilliantly illustrated volume, with highly detailed and vivid illustrations of insects and insect behavior. Very pleased with this purchase, we stepped over to the bright and shiny Chapters bookstore, whose washrooms are as good as any on this high street of commerce. Our next stop was another second-hand bookstore, and here, although bug volumes were slim (there were two volumes of Fabre, but too steep for such as I), I did find two books on Celtic history and archaeology, which where fine things indeed for my daughter.
Having spent more money than is reasonable for someone of my standing , we skipped over to the Rocky Mountain Antique Mall, as pleasant of jumble of junque from the past, as can be imagined. I spotted two real brass microscopes of interest: a small and sweet field microscope from France and another of American college quality – both outwardly respectable, but of price, too much. We left impressed by the wealth of our past, but empty-handed.
At this stage it was time to go home, but first, taking advantage of my brother’s monstrous pick-up truck, I phoned a friend of the entomological persuasion, who had an insect cabinet to dispense of , for the
mere outrageous price of $10. Having obtained his address (my lips are sealed) we went for a pleasant country drive,( my brother peering pensively and hopelessly for a McDonald’s cup o’ cream) to the estate of the aforementioned entomologist. After introductions and tales of moth richness, we loaded the cabinet (green) into the pick-up(black), with myself serving to direct the movements of the two unfortunate fella’s who were lifting it. Now secured (the cabinet), I paid my dues, with an extra $10 to join the Alberta Lepidoptera Society. Extending my thanks, and waving our goodbyes, we took the long road home, where, finally spotting a McDonald’s, my brother satisfied his craving and we continued on our way home.
At last, we are parked in front of the house. I greet the family, hand the Celtic books to a grateful daughter, and proceed to prepare for placement of the cabinet.
My brother, grumbling somewhat (he is un-used to real work, you know), moves the cabinet downstairs and into the basement nook. After bidding him goodbye, I stand back and look admiringly at the day’s haul: renewed brotherly affection, fine books, an empty insect cabinet, a rosy glow.
God is in his heaven, and all is well with the world.