I found myself with fifteen spare minutes today and spent the whole lot of them here, at The Last Word Bookshop on the edge of the Penn campus. I wasn't going to leave without a purchase. I came home with the University of Nebraska edition of All the Strange Hours: The Excavation of a Life, the Loren Eiseley memoir.
I will never complete my memoir library. But having this Eiseley (among my many other Eiseleys) puts me at a bit more ease.
In other news, spring has sprung and my young memoirists are not just fine memoirists. They are thoughtful critics and compassionate souls.