For the first time in many years, it looks as though I won’t leave the state of Texas this summer.

Staying home has been quite nice, a taste of the retirement scheduled at the end of the next school year. My wife repainted the living and dining rooms. She also took a powder room from 1998 to 1958 in two days.

Still, sometimes it’s good to get out. We went to Bastrop the other day. It’s a town I’ve been driving through since the ‘70s, but I’ve never taken the time to park the car and check it out.

My wife’s sister lives in Bastrop, so we met up for lunch. I wanted to check out the Painted Porch Bookstore, a place I’d heard about a lot in the last few years. It’s owned by Ryan Holiday, who has been promoting a popularized Stoicism in books and podcasts.

I wrote about Holiday’s being disinvited to speak to midshipmen at the Naval Academy at Annapolis when he criticized the secretary of Defense’s removal of 379 books from the Nimitz library. I had hoped to meet him, but he’s not always in.

The shop is on Main Street downtown. Its plate glass windows bear signs in tasteful white lettering: “Good Things Happen In Bookstores,” “Courage, Temperance, Justice, Wisdom,” and “They Don’t Gotta Burn the Books, They Just Remove Them.”

Inside the spacious shop is its most distinguishing feature. It is a fireplace surrounded by three levels of books laid horizontally, like bricks. The spines face outward, so you can see the titles. It’s not just a shallow facade; the books are stacked three-deep. It’s an attractive feature.

There are inscriptions inside as well. Near the book wall fireplace is written “Liber medicine animi — a book is medicine for the soul.”

It is a well curated shop. Instead of trying to be everything to everybody, instead of chasing the most popular titles, the owners select titles that they or their employees would recommend.

I’ve encountered other curated shops — Christian bookstores, New Age shops, feminist bookstores, and in New Orleans, one dedicated to Wicca and the occult. This one, though, was far more appealing. Though broad, they stocked many quality books and little fluff. I noted how many I had read, or had heard of.

Near the front door were a number of books on modern Stoicism written by Ryan Holiday. Many of them take a Stoic virtue and write about its application to the world today. My daughter had read his “Ego Is the Enemy” in a management seminar for her job.

I picked up a copy of “Tao Te Ching,” an ancient Chinese classic — and the eighth translation of it in my collection. I also bought an autographed copy of Sebastian Junger’s book “In My Time of Dying: How I Came Face-To-Face With the Idea of an Afterlife.” While my wife and her sister shopped, I sat on a comfortable sofa and read, accompanied by two cats.

I did not read long, though, because I wanted to explore downtown, so I headed out onto Main Street. One sign that attracted me said “Honest Lawyers.” It seemed to house some law offices. They seemed modest, perhaps because the demand is low.

The other commercial buildings were mostly occupied. Nothing is sadder to me than a dying downtown. There was no sadness here. Many buildings were well maintained, historic, and fairly small. At one corner, a brick wall was painted with advertising for real businesses, just like they did it 100 years ago. That was a nice touch.

I walked north to where the downtown ended, and then, through the post office parking lot to the next block, where I could see a couple of churches. The first one I came to was the Bastrop Christian Church, a white wooden structure with a six-pointed star in a window. A historical marker said it was built in 1895, replacing a former rock church.

One distinctive feature was a weather vane atop the steeple. It was large but clearly fairly light. Originally it said “Christian,” but the “C” had disappeared. Maybe one of the sopranos hit a really high C.

Nearby was the public library. I walked in, and exchanged a couple of pleasantries with the librarian behind the counter. We talked about the flags being at half staff because of the recent flooding deaths. It was not a distinguished building, but it was nice, and peaceful, and air-conditioned on a Texas July afternoon.

Then I went over to Calvary Episcopal Church. The sanctuary is brick, and the front is a miniature English-style tower, complete with replica crenelations. Once again, the grounds were attractive. They have a school and a spacious parish hall. Both it and Bastrop Christian looked well used and well cared for.

I returned to the bookshop, and after a pleasant conversation with the young man behind the counter, sat down to read.

After my wife returned, we took the car and drove around some of the nice old neighborhoods, and I took her to the two churches I’d seen earlier.

Both of us were very pleased at our summer outing. We saw places we have never been before, and we will return. I left my card and a note telling Ryan Holiday that I wanted to interview him.

I hope to return soon.

— Frank T. Pool is an award-winning columnist who grew up on Maple Street in Longview and graduated from Longview High School. He is a semi-retired teacher living in Austin. Contact him at FrankT.Pool@gmail.com. His Substack is Paco Pond.