Seasonal (winter) retirement of the bookseller at Dog Ears Books ends soon, and the bookstore will re-open in mid-May for its 30th anniversary year! Our success is thanks to our devoted and valued customers -- thank you, thank you, dear friends! And always, if you enjoy this blog, consider sharing the link with friends.
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Friday, April 3, 2009
Moving Toward Departure
Yes, it's that time, the time of obsessing over boxes and dreaming of the road. The other night I dreamed we had to get three vehicles back to Michigan with only two drivers, so you see I am using 'dream' in the general, not romantic, sense of the word. Then, re boxes: Boxes are one thing, and shipping boxes quite another. To pack books (we have acquired books, no surprise, and many of them are heavy), banana boxes will not do (too heavy), and to ship books liquor boxes (marked as holding glass containers) won't get past the postmaster's eye. --Not that we have liquor boxes lying around the house, understand, but liquor and beer and wine boxes are so sturdy and such good sizes, not to mention easily obtainable, that the temptation is great. But no! Resolutely--and yet somewhat hopelessly, too, because we’ve been on this quest before--we start haunting the backs of stores in search for appropriate cardboard treasure. Yesterday we were outraged to come around the corner of a shopping mall and see bundles of compacted, flattened boxes on pallets! How could they?
Last week was a year since Donnie died, he whose house we have occupied this winter, with his two old dogs as frequent visitors. A small group gathered on the bridge to toss long-stemmed roses into the outgoing tide at sunset, and dear little doggie Ida plunged in to swim after the roses. We’ll miss Ida and Weiser. We like to think they may miss us a bit—and little Saripeka, too.
Posted by P. J. Grath at 1:15 PM
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Sadness is always stirred into the cake somewhere, isn't it. Good dog, Ida.
I know nothing about the operation of bookstores, but might they not be good places to search for boxes suitable for shipping, er, books?
Or you could buy a cunning little trailer . . .
Or go to the office supply store for sturdy file boxes and tell yourself they'll be useful after you unpack at home.
Home! What a lovely word. You may wish to wend your way slowly, as there are, here and there, still traces of s***. Just traces, mind you.
Or you can take it from Keith, in the Leland Report today:
"The dawn once more delighted us with a fresh snow, making sure that Winter remains part of our fondest memories. Everyone in town gleeful that the dreaded arrival of Spring has been once more delayed. The Web Cam shows the partly cloudy blue over Big Blue, that's promised for tonight and will bring temperatures below freezing. How fortunate we are, to be able to enjoy Winter for a half year. The Sno-Birds returning from hellish temperatures in the south rejoice that they haven't missed the wonder of Winter Wonderland. You can feel the joy in the air and the colder it gets, the more joyous it is."
I think he's lost it.....
Thanks for all the ideas, Gerry. Today David suggested we might not need to ship books and probably only needed about five boxes in which to pack them. Ha! Ten is the minimum number of boxes, according to my eyeball calculations, and more likely 12-15.
Susan, I think it's great that Keith and others still have a sense of humor at the ragged end of winter. We are more concerned about tornadoes than blizzards for the trip back. Are the Canada geese reappearing yet? Wild leeks? Have you heard peepers? I am so eager!
The night I had to shovel for an hour just to get into my driveway and go to be I was hearing geese every time I stopped to strategize. No peepers yet. The crocus come up but rarely open as it's barely over 40 most days. I think it will be a good year for mushrooms with so much snow so late.
No peepers, no leeks, a few crocus in the sunny bed at the library, but still 3-foot mounds of snow where the plows left them. But perhaps in a week we'll see progress, if that's what it's called. I always dislike the transition from one season to another, and oddly want to hang on.
Liquor boxes, covered with brown paper (purchased on a roll or using grocery sacks) work will for mailing books.
I think Sarah will miss her friends, but unlike we humans, she will be joyful in the present, not sad about leaving her friends.
I love the transition to spring and am glad to hear that I haven't missed very much this year. Deborah, David is certain we can get all the boxes in the car! If not, I have two neatly addressed to myself and ready for the p.o. We're wondering, when we get home, if Sarah will race up to Kona's house the minute she's out of the car or she will take some time to check out her own yard first.
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