After the December episode of Twilight Rummage Sale, I came to terms with the deteriorated state of the basement's hygiene. Here's an example of poor storage quality: for months I had books stacked on an upended box containing a child's booster seat. On top of the box, plastic wrapped bathroom tissue (a few of which had been taken upstairs to the hall closet). On top of that, more books. I had loads of other books in disarray piled on a table nearby. My goods from the last Twilight sale were in the garage waiting to be sorted, including things I was keeping for myself. Last night I brought my laptop downstairs, put on season 2 of
Orange is the New Black, and got to work. I sorted out most of the books into "keep", "Powells", and "swap meet" piles. I fit the last roll of old carpet padding in the garbage can, so the collectors could get it this morning. I found a small pile of stuff to bring upstairs and put away. Before I knew it the old basement was starting to look like a safe haven again.
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| We've only just begun |
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| White lace and promises |
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| A kiss for luck and we're on our way |
Selling books at Powells has been going really well...the last time I went I got a ride so I could take about three times as many books as I usually carry. Which isn't saying much, but now there's a dent in the shelves where I had them before. Sooo...many...books...there used to be three or four times more too. Unbelievable. When the weather gets dryer, I'll start lugging them over to the book buyers again.
The last Twilight sale was blessed with a great turnout and my usual excellent regular customers. There's been talk of the Eagles Lodge being sold but that's not going to happen, at least not for a long time. I am so relieved, I can't even tell you.
I just finished a book by Emma Brockes,
She Left Me the Gun. I was reading it in The Fresh Pot when a guy at the table next to me wanted to know what I was reading. I held up the cover and said it was a biography. Then the guy asks me if it's a romantic novel. I said no, it's nonfiction (hence the word biography). It's about the author's mother and how she left South Africa to escape her horrifically abusive father, but I didn't want to get into that. Then the guy says, "But it probably has some romantic stuff in it, huh?" I don't like to ascribe sexism to someone's motives two sentences in, but it was complete nonsense coming out of him in any case. It reminded me of the time that a guy at the Gap asked me about a book I was carrying,
Cries Unheard: the Story of Mary Bell by Gitta Sereny. I think no one really wants to know what you're reading, it's just an awkward way to open up a conversation. There's nothing more awkward than bringing up Mary Bell at the Gap.
