Bookstore Musings...

Misty Sunday afternoons at the bookstore are slow, luxurious and truly unlike the weekday shifts. On Sunday, I'm alone in the store with only a cockatiel named Poomba for company. We companionably listen to NPR, together, though either of us is likely to comment upon the laughter and frivolity of "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me!" and "What do you know?" I have a wonderful view of the waters of Puget Sound from behind the counter and enjoy the sight of small boats sailing past, the waters rippling companionably with the winds. Today, though windy, the waters are fairly calm and somehow adds to the lazy feeling within our dear little bookstore. I've spent the first hour of my shift, perched on an antique wood stool, book laid over my knee, while just watching the view outside the front windows.

Customers are fairly rare, though they do tend to come in groups of four or more, coming in two distinct types - the Yacker who wants to discuss various topics and the Lone Wolf, who wants to choose his books in relative privacy. It can take awhile to figure out who is who on that scale, though you do find the right mix on occassion. Little old ladies are typically chatty, young men are not, families can be either. The way they approach the counter is usually the best rubric: chatters do, loners don't.

( Shifty Sailors and other news )

I'll spend some time later this afternoon jotting down additional recipes from our cookbook section, but for now, I'm more than content just to meditate on my surroundings. The last weekend of the month is a busy one for us, filled with coven activities, friends and social responsibilities - so this quiet weekend must be savored for all its worth.