If we were having coffee….
It’s been a long week. Thanks for joining me here at home. What flavor K-Cup coffee would you like? I hope you can squeeze in here at the table. I know, the living room is a mess. I’m not even taking you downstairs to the basement. Packing frustrations. This is take for-ev-ah. The best thing this week is that about 90% of my stuff sold at the Baker’s Studio scrapbook Yard Sale. Made over $130, and I intend to do something me-centered with it.
A massage, maybe? I could use one.
Yesterday my latest Deadwood blogpost published, the latest installment in my series of Coffee Shop Chronicles. Do you mind if I read you my favorite part?
“How many more times will I be this excited about a book series? How many more times will I be able to walk into a bookstore, pick up a book made of paper and walk out with my treasure? The glisten of a glossy cover. The ruffle of pages flipping through them. The smudgy fingerprints in margins from cheap ink. The triumph of finding what you want. To leave with the treasure.
A purchase.
An actual purchase. Even the smell. I pull it up to my nose, to make sure. There’s that musty, raw dusty smell. Yes. The delicious anticipation. Page One awaits.”
Work’s been well. My two writers groups met this week: the Deadwood annual holiday party this past Wednesday and the critique at Ann Arbor Emerging Writers. I haven’t had much time to read or write or barely sleep with all this packing. I did make time to scrapbook with my dear friend, and I needed a break like that.
That blogpost, it reminded me of the joy of books and bookstores. It’s fun to reminisce like that. Not that I’ve read a book recently, but I have a pile to read and re-read. I’m gathering a box of DVDs and books to take with me should the house sell and we’re in temporary housing. But then I’m gathering boxes of everythings. In fact, I need to buy more boxes at Office Max, so I have to cut our visit short. Before we leave, tell me how your week was.
