We just got in from visiting Yaiya in London. It’s Greek Easter so we went down for the church service. We usually go early to get a good seat, which means we have time to kill, and since religion is not my favourite thing, I thought I’d select a book. My grandmother has a modest collection, mostly of mums, uncle Aki’s and aunt Toullas old books. Aki read philosophy at uni, so the book which caught my eye – due to it’s psuediness – was called The Dialogues of Plato.
We got to the church and dad started reading to me. I love it when he does this: I value my literacy greatly, and love reading to myself, but my father has the voice of an orator, and I find it very pleasant indeed. I think it reminds me of nights long since past when he read to us before bed. Thus, Dad read, and time passed. Then, dad pointed out something unusual, and to me of great interest. The date of printing for this book was 1893: it was 115 years old. It was new in the days of queen Victoria, when the troubled times of the last century were in the future. My uncle must have bought it second hand, or even 3rd. quite incredible to think of what that book must have seen.