In Which the Richard III Society Helps Alleviate Global Warming

Yesterday, while working on my novel, I had the need to know which lands of the Duke of Buckingham’s were granted to who after his execution. Of course, I knew where this information could be found–British Harleian Manuscript 433. Sadly, I said to myself, “Well, since my copy of Harley 433 hasn’t arrived yet, I guess I’ll have to drive to the library this weekend, even if it means wasting gas and helping ruin the planet through global warming.”

But the day is saved, because twenty minutes ago, I opened my front door, and what did I find, but all four volumes of Harley 433 stacked prettily on my doorstep! Having checked them to make sure that all four volumes are there (just as a proud parent counts an infant’s fingers and toes), I can now say at last, “Thank you, Richard III Society, for sending me my Harley 433.”

My daughter’s comments: “It smells like a library in here.”

Some people just have no appreciation of the finer things in life.

7 thoughts on “In Which the Richard III Society Helps Alleviate Global Warming”

  1. Susan Higginbotham

    The books arrived before any of the events in the poll occurred, making their appearance quite miraculous.

  2. Yay for the books.

    The parcel service just leaves them in front of the door? They don’t ring and ask you to sign a receipt? Yikes, what if someone steals them – no one will want to be responsible for that mess?

  3. Way-hay!At last! You must be so happy – and relieved!
    You know – I really think your daughter and mine should start their own support society for having mothers as history obsessed as us!

    I can’t imagine anything better than having a room smell like a library 😉

  4. Susan Higginbotham

    Thanks, all! Gabriele, about the only time the post office or parcel service gets a signature here is when they’re specifically asked to. Of course, most of the regular delivery people know that I’m at home during the day.

    Lady D, our daughters should definitely get together and commiserate. Just wait until tomorrow when I take a book to the baseball game we’re seeing . . .

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