hand, wellies, books

I have rather neglected the series of photographs of hands which I started a few posts ago. Here to make up for it, is one from the archives, this one with a visitor.

Outside a front door two pairs of child's wellies, hastily kicked off. They stir memories of childhood and the pleasure of splashing through puddles without being ticked off. I don't wear mine any more, but what a noble item of footwear!  The Duke of Wellington  would deserve to be remembered if only for the boots to which he gave his name.

In Waterstone's I hear the generous voice of a woman. She is being shown a display of e-readers. "I just like books," she protests." I like the smell of them. I like the feel of them."