Today at Logos

On our drive to lunch yesterday, Susan informed me that the girl I call "Eliza" is not, in fact, the girl who gave her name as Rain.   They just look a lot alike...and dress a lot alike, but Rain didn't wear the heavy blanket and Eliza does.  Nice to have that cleared up.  Neither of them came in today, though.

When I arrived at the store, Sandy was ringing up a sale for a guy who was mentioning that he had attended Jesuit High in Sacramento.  I asked if he knew my old boyfriend, who was on the faculty there awhile ago, but he said he did not.   I wondered if he really did not, or if he knew that my old boyfriend has been "benched" at the seminary because of charges of inappropriate behavior with a minor.  He did look at me rather oddly when I asked him.

Sandy had a so-so day, but I had a terrible afternoon.  There were a total of six sales, the largest of which was to "my friend," who spent nearly $20.  Four of the six sales were for bargain books, so a sum total of $4.  We have had donated books, though and for today at least, the number of books donated was more than the number of books sold on my shift!  I am assuming that when the temps drop to something more comfortable and when the students are moving in to Davis, not moving out, this ratio will reverse itself.

Shortly after Sandy left, I had a "butt call" from Walt.   I tried yelling at his butt, but he didn't hear me.  I did call back and leave a message, which he eventually got, but didn't return the call since he hadn't wanted to talk to me anyway.

I saw Bruce looking through the bargain books, but I guess he didn't find anything he wanted because he didn't come into the store.

A Chinese guy bought 2 bargain books.  He told me he was from Nanjing, the capital of Eastern China.  He has only been in town for "40 days," he says, and added that he thinks the people of Davis are very nice.  He wanted to know where he could buy sheets of stamps and I drew him a map to the local post office and assured him that yes, he could get there on his bike.

A woman wearing heavy jeans and a sweatshirt came in and complained about the heat.  She was looking through the travel books and bought a book on Vancouver and "The Sun Also Rises," explaining that she is leaving for Spain next week.  She also talked about how much she loves Vancouver and what a great city it is to get around in because the transportation system is so good.

A woman came in to find out where she could catch a bus to Sacramento.  I had to tell her I wasn't that familiar with the Davis bus system and I was going to call Walt to ask him (because he would know), but she left before I had a chance to do so.

A kind of nondescript woman, fresh-faced, wearing a light weight sundress with a very short skirt and showing off her boobs nicely came in.  She had curly hair that she wore in a pony tail high on her head.  She wandered around for awhile, but, like almost everyone else so far, she also left without buying anything.

A tall guy with a list in his hand went rummaging through the Literature shelves and eventually left without making a purchase.

A woman who reminded me of our old friend Merrell came in.  She was short, rotund, and had a mass of unruly bronze colored curls.  She was looking for books with Spanish on one side and English on the other and I told her I didn't think we had anything like that.  She found a chair to climb on so she could check the top shelves, since she was so short.  Eventually she left empty handed.

In contrast with the low key dresses that the Merrell doppelganger was wearing was a young woman wearing a busy dress with a short skirt in shades of purple, beige and gold, with a butterfly motif.  Her straw bag was woven in the same shades of colors.  I was impressed.  She checked out the "old books," but left without buying anything.

An Asian woman was looking for "Building Bridges, not Walls" and I directed to her toward the Personal Growth shelves, but she didn't find what she was looking for and left.

A Dad and son came in and checked out the children's room, where the son found a book on snakes.  Dad wanted to know if we had any MadLibs books and I told him he was unlikely to find a used MadLib book.  He and his son sat at the front table for a very long time, off and on giggling, which I found cute. They ultimately left without buying anything, and without putting the snake book back in the children's room.

An older man in rumpled pants and a cut-off t-shirt came in.  He reminded me of our old friend Harry Krade (now long dead).  He wandered around for awhile, checking the travel books, before leaving.

A woman came in looking for Harry Potter books.  She bought "Goblet of Fire" and was out of the store in less than 5 minutes.

A Japanese environmentalist was looking for books on the National Parks and also a book on Village Homes, an environmentally friendly subdivision which was so famous in 1975 when developer Mike Corbett built it that Rosalind Carter came out for the dedication.  At least one of our kids was part of the welcoming committee for her.  Sadly, I don't think anybody has written a book about Village Homes (but in case someone has, I sent him to the Avid Reader to look) and he didn't find what he was looking for about national parks, so another no-sale.

A Mom and son came in.  The little kid had a tube of "something" and I asked him about it.  He told me that it had everything--knights, dragons and swords.  "That's cool," I said.   "Yeah--I have good stuff," he told me.  Mom ultimately bought a different Harry Potter book.

I almost didn't notice the "purple lady," who, as it turned out, was my last customer of the day.  She was wearing a purple dress, a purple headband, shoes and purse which nicely contrasted with her blonde hair and pale skin.   But she was in and out very quickly and, of course, did not buy anything.

Peter arrived just about 6, followed soon after by Walt and my exhausting day at Logos was over for another week.

Day 73:  I LOVE my new t-shirt!

Sunday Stealing

What kind of blog do you have?
That's a difficult question to answer...or rather it's a lengthy answer.  There is Funny the World, which is hosted by Yahoo and then Airy Persiflage, a mirror blog for people who want to subscribe.  Both are just my daily journal, my life, comments on current events, and whatever is in my mind that day (including Sunday Stealing). Then there is Bitter Hack, which is where I post my theater reviews after they have appeared in the newspaper.  There is also My Compassion Kids, where I print letters I have received from the children I sponsor through Compassion, Int'l.  And I also have Journey Through Dementia, which records the ups and downs of my mother's dementia.  That's mostly excerpts from Funny the World, for family who don't want to read my journal but who want to know what's going on with my mother. I have had others through the years, like one for my 70th year, one when I was writing a haiku a day, a letter blog when I was recording everything I sent and received, and a bunch of others, but those five are the current active ones.

How many posts do you have?
Funny the World has been written almost daily since March of 2000 and this entry will be #5,270

How many blogs do you follow?
It depends.  I have a lot on Feedly that I check almost daily, and some that don't have a feed that I check when I remember to do so.  Probably several dozen that I check on a regular basis, more that I check intermittently. On Sunday, I try to check as many entries there as I can.

How many followers do you have?
Something like 35 on Blogspot and 300-400 on Funny the World, but I almost never check stats.  It could be much lower (or much higher) than that now.  Funny the World tends to go a lot higher when I am blogging a cruise and it went through the roof when I was blogging my dieting and exercise efforts.

How often do you change your theme?
I don't really have a "theme" per se.

How often do you change your icon?
I change the look of Funny the World on the first of every month, meaning there is a new background and a new masthead.  Once I design something on Blogger, I don't change it. 

Do you have any favorite blogs?
Several.  I have been following Fighting Monsters with Rubber Swords, Rob Rummel-Hudson's story of his life with his now-13 year old wordless daughter, ever since his wife was pregnant with her. I've been reading Mary's Red Nose for years and we even met once. I love my friend Sian's Life on a Small Island, though I don't seem to be part of her blog roll. Mary's Z's World is very short, but it's nice to keep up with her life. Kari Peterson is a friend here in Davis and writes a great blog.  Can I Drink the Water? is a wonderful travel blog, but she only writes when she and her husband are traveling, so often there is nothing for long stretches of time, but her photos and descriptions are fabulous. 100+ year old Bill Baker, who lives in California and his friend Wilma, from Canada, are having difficulties finding a good new blogging platform, but when they publish, the blog is always full of fun anectdotes. And Because of Shamin is my now-favorite blog for things pertaining to sponsored children through Compassion, Int'l

Do you ever send anonymous messages to other people?
Never.  Anonymous posters (usually dive-bombers who are there to make trouble) are cowards.  Some anonymous posters are OK.

Do you ever get anon hate?
Rarely, and then only on something I've said in a theater review.

Have you made any friends through your blog?
Oh my word yes.  My friend Steve Schalchlin's Living in the Bonus Round is, historically, the fifth journal ever published on the internet.  It was because of him that I started my own journal and his friendship made me realize how rich internet friendships could be.  I am fortunate that I have made too many friends to count as a result of this blog.  Some have stuck around and remained friends, some have faded away, and some have died (I still miss Jim Lawrence of Jim's Journal, who died last year and who also was a blogging pioneer), but my internet blogging friendships are very valuable to me.

What’s your favorite thing about blogging?
I love the discipline of it.  I started this journal to see if I could produce an 850 word column on a daily basis, like my heroine, Erma Bombeck.  I discovered I'm no Erma, but since I blog daily, unless I can't get internet access, I think have have proven that I can write a daily column, if anybody ever wants to hire me!!  I think my writing has improved over the years, and I really do love borrowing small pieces of others' lives, through their own blogs.

What’s your least favorite thing about blogging?
The nights when I sit down to a blank screen an writers block.  It's always nice when those nights fall on nights when there is a Sunday Stealing to answer!

Day 63:  Laurel posted this to Facebook.  It makes me smile every time I look at it.

Bob at 77

We were standing at the dessert buffet table when my cousin Ken turned to me and said, "I'll bet she could still beat me at Pinochle.   That woman is as sharp as she ever was..."  
 

I wonder what he would have said if he had been me earlier in the day.

I didn't go to Atria yesterday, but the day before we talked about going to Bob's birthday party this afternoon.  I reminded her that it was written on her calendar.  This morning, I called to remind her that we were going to the party.  To my delight, she remembered and said she'd be ready to go at 3 when I said we would pick her up.

At 2:45, I called to let her know we were getting ready to leave and would meet her out in front of Atria.

"Oh?" she asked.  "Where are we going?"  I told her that we were going to Bob's party.  "WHO?" she said.  I said that it was Bob's birthday party and that I had talked with Peach and we were supposed to be there at 4. "Are they here?" she asked.   I assured her that they were in Roseville and that we needed to leave in 15 minutes.  "Well, I'll have to  change my clothes," she said "I didn't know anything about this."  She asked several times in the car where we were going and what we were going to do there.

Sigh.  No, Ken--she will not beat you at Pinochle, and no, she is not as sharp as she ever was.

That aside, however, it really was a lovely afternoon and, as usual my mother covered beautifully and I don't think anybody got much of a hint at how she recognized almost nobody and had to be reminded of what all those people were there for.  She was thrilled to see Peach again, of course, though she couldn't get over her curly hair and couldn't remember it ever being white.  She told me several times that she just didn't recognize her.

But she got to see several other people in the family, like my 2nd cousin, Donna (Niecie's sister), Ken, and Peach's sister Mandy, whom we almost never see.

As for the birthday boy, Peach intended this to be a surprise and he was overwhelmed when he saw the crowd

We spent a lot of time indoors in the air conditioning since it was in the mid 90s outside, but later when it began to cool off we went to the dinner buffet arranged by Peach's son Mike and his wife Stacey--a fabulous spread!  Then after dinner, they set up chairs so Bob and Peach could have their picture taken with everyone who was there, in groups of 1 or 2 (someone else took the picture with Walt and me in it, so I don't have that one)

and at the end of the guest pictures, pictures with the reason they had come out here, their new great grandchild, Everly (not Beverly).   There was a Grandparent picture and a 4 generations picture (the guy in the red shirt is my godson, Peach's son).  And yes, she is the most beautiful baby in the world...under the age of 2.

So a great time was had by all, and as the sun started setting, we told everyone goodbye and I took my traditional picture of Peach with Kathy's husband, Fred, the long and the short of it.  (Once again, as I frequently do, I wished Kathy were there with us.)

My mother mentioned many times on the way home that it had been a "busy day" and I certainly hope she was able to get to sleep tonight. At least for one day she had something "exciting" to do and couldn't tell me nothing exciting ever happens in her life.

But I don't think I'll plan any games of pinochle with her in the foreseeable future.  We are hoping Peach and Bob will make it to Davis for a day, but that is looking less and less likely.

Day 62:  Our wonderful, wonderful reunion!

Neither Rain, nor Snow, ...etc

You know, we think of the mail as just something that "is."  It arrives in our mailbox every day and we don't really think much about how it got there.  And I guess we assume that everybody pretty much gets their mail the same way.  We used to know our mailman, but it seems that it now changes so often, I don't make an effort to know who it is any more.

Today in a Swap Bot discussion someone mentioned that her mailman had tried to deliver a small parcel and when the woman wasn't home, he left a note that she could pick it up at the post office.

But then he saw me walking in town... so he turned his bike, got some speed to catch me and gave me the package so I didn't have to pick it up myself tomorrow..

Everyone agreed this was a special mailman, but many were confused about delivery on a bike.  I assumed this was a small village.  But it turns out it has a population of 90,000 (bigger than Davis).

I don't get it... what is so odd about a mail man on a bike? asked the woman who posted the first message.  I checked her profile and discovered she was from Belgium.

All mail mans do their work by bike. Only very large packages that won't fit on the bike are being delivered with a small postal truck.

Looking at that photo, I wonder how many trips they make back to the post office to refill their boxes. Then she asked how we got OUR mail.  I guess it never occurred to me that mail was delivered in many different ways. I just never thought about it. Someone from Berlin uploaded pictures of the mail bikes in Berlin.

Someone else wrote that in Mexico they use either bikes or motorbikes.  Someone from Latvia wrote, "our mailman has a small car not truck, and they stop, get out, deliver, drive a bit... I think I have seen them sometimes doing it together (maybe a relative helping or so), so one is at wheel and other runs out to deliver. Our mailman comes from a town 8 km away and no nice biking road between those towns."

Another woman wrote "I live in the rural area in TN and mail people use their own vehicles, and stop at my mailbox out front by the road, if it is a package he always brings it to the door, he is pretty awesome, leaves a bag of goldfish crackers for my grandson every once in awhile."

When I was growing up, the mail was sorted at the main post office and put into boxes to be delivered to big metal boxes around the city.  They looked like mail boxes, but had no slot for inserting mail.  The mailman then loaded his bag with his first load of mail at the post office and took public transportation to where he started his route.  He walked the route and when he finished the first batch, he was at one of those collection boxes where he picked up the next batch and walked some more.   He did it once a day, and twice or three times a day during Christmas time.

Now all the mail for the mailman's route goes onto a small truck. The mailman parks the truck about a block from our house.  He then gets out and walks the route, down one side of the street, around the two cul de sacs and back up the other side of the street and back into the truck again to move to his next parking spot. (We have occasionally had a female mail carrier, but most of the time it's a man.)

When I did a search for this picture, I found lots of other US mail truck designs, some smaller, some larger.  Some are designed so that the mail can be delivered without the driver leaving the truck--these are for communities that have mail boxes right on the street.  The mailman has to walk up our driveway to the front door of our house in order to deliver our mail.  It never occurred to me how far he has to walk besides the streets that he walks, because almost everyone on this block (and probably all of his blocks) have long driveways.

Someone else wrote, "The postal service is pushing to have communal mailbox areas at the front of a neighborhood (that is already often the case in apartment complexes). It would be more efficient for them but I love having my mail delivered right to my house."  Me too, though I have not heard that discussed for here.  Seems strange that it's not, since this is the "city of bicycles" and with a terrain so flat it would be a simple thing.  

This whole thing got me curious about various methods of mail delivery.  If you have a different kind of service that seems normal for you, I'd love it if you'd share here.

Day 61:  A nice way to start the day, with a beautiful sunrise

Today at Lunch and at Logos

It's a good thing that lunch was so much fun, because today at Logos was dull...dull...dull!  Sandy had a busy morning, I did not (which was good because my book was gripping).  

However, lunch was great fun.  It started out to be the normal day with my mother.  I dropped off her clean, folded laundry and made a point of letting her know it was HER laundry and that I would return to pick up my laundry basket tomorrow (this ploy seems to have stopped her not recognizing her clothes).

We went to the dining room early because I had to go to work and you never know how fast or slow service was going to be.  We sat at the usual table and pretty soon Margaret came to join us.  The three of us had ordered when Leighton arrived (I don't know if that is his first name or last name...Peg, maybe you do)

I don't know how he started talking about barn-storming planes. I mentioned that my mother's sister had been one of those barn-storming pilots and was, in fact (or at least in family lore) the first women to get a pilot's license.   Leighton was interested and asked her about it.  My god, she joined in the conversation!  He asked her if Mel (her sister) had given her a ride in the plane and she said that she had and talked about the experience...a new story for me!!!  I had never heard that!

Someone came to the table and asked Leighton where he was going to be reading this afternoon.  I asked him about that and it turns out he writes short stories and reads them once a week for whoever wants to listen.  We talked about writing, a lot.  He started writing when he retired from his veterinary surgery practice.  He told us the story about a boy who wanted to meet an elephant (a story he has written for his grandchildren).  I just had the best time listening to him and sharing stories about publishing. 

Then it was time to get ready for Logos.  When I arrived, Sandy said she'd had a busy morning and had filled over half of the spaces on the first side of the log where we record the sales.  At the end of the day, I had recorded a grand total of seven sales (and two of them were to myself; I bought one book on botanical footware for my mother's birthday -- she loves shoes and she loves flowers and I thought she might enjoy looking at the book (I can always take it back when she's tired of it) and I later found a book with nice dog pictures in it so bought that too.)

Almost immediately, two young women entered the store, each wearing glittery shoes.  They each had broad smiles and bought 2 contemporary fiction books.

An old guy came in to ask about donating books.  He is originally from Palo Alto and he and his wife moved here 10 years ago because they realized that their grandchildren were "growing up without them" and they wanted to be able to spend more time with them (I understand the feeling...but he didn't have a mother in a facility in Palo Alto).  He told me a bit about his grandchildren and then said, with a sigh, "communication is so different these days."  He said he'd tried a cell phone, but that it was not for him.

There was a long period where the store was empty, during which time this little guy stood at the front door looking in for about 10 minutes.

I didn't see anybody with him, but eventually a girl about 10 came alng and he walked away with her.

A guy who reminded me of Chandler Bing (Friends) bought a book of short stories, a young Latino man with a very bad limp came in to buy four bargain books from outside and then She walked in.

This young woman came up to the desk and asked, hesitantly, "Do you have a book named 'Outlander.'"  I just laughed.  I told her I seriously doubted it, given the popularity of the series and the TV show right now and then we just started talking about the Gabaldon books.  She LOVES the TV series, she LOVES the actors cast in the principal roles, she hasn't read the 8th book in the series yet, but plans to do so.  It was so nice to find a Gabaldon fan in the store.  First one I've encountered, I think!

But after she left it was 4:22 and 2 guys walked in and walked out again quickly.  Another guy in business attire came in and didn't buy anything.  Two girls wearing UCD shirts came in and left without making a purchase.

Another business man type came in and bought an art book (table top type).

"My friend" didn't show up by 5 p.m. either.   I'm wondering if he has found greener pastures, since a local music shop has opened up a used book section.

The last person to come into the store before Susan came to relieve me was a guy who wasn't interested in buying a book, but in making a donation to Doctors Without Borders.  I told him we weren't a 501c3 location so couldn't take his donation (at least not giving him tax credit).

And then Susan was arriving and relieving me and my stint was over.  Definitely not my most interesting day there (though the chat with the gal about "Outlander" was pretty fun!)

Walt asked me who I plan to have lunch with tomorrow and was surprised when I told him I would be home having lunch with him.

Day 60:  I got my very first letter from Brianna!

I Miss the Smell of Tomatoes in the Morning

We moved to Davis in 1973.  It was not a decision we were happy about.  Walt was working for a division of the Department of Agriculture, which had its office in Berkeley.  When the old boss retired and a good ol' boy from Texas came in to take charge, he looked at all those hippies around Berkeley and set in motion moving the whole office up here to Davis.

It was, all things considered, a logical decision, since much of the work entailed working with offices in Sacramento.  It involved big decisions for the employees, though.  Most (some 50 families) chose to move; at least one guy found employment elsewhere so he could remain in the Bay Area.

I had passed by Davis many times, on my way to go to Peach's house in Citrus Heights, on the far side of Sacramento.  All I knew of it was a sign for the offramp.  I had never entered the town before.  I still remember the first time we came to look around and I kept trying to find "downtown," which I was smack dab in the middle of at the time. 

A big town this is not...and it was much smaller then.   We now have "skyscrapers."  A whole 3 stories tall. Several buildings.  There is one corner, where Walt's office is now, which I call "Wall Street" because there are 3-story buildings on each corner.

Our friend Michele had graduated from UC Davis and was excited that we were going to be living here because she had such pleasant memories of her time here.

At that time there was a big Campbell's Soup plant in Davis, not too far from our house.  The agricultural land which surrounded Davis was heavily planted in tomato crops.  I think it would have been impossible to starve to death in Davis in the summer because the huge tomato trucks, carrying their loads to the plant invariably knocked lots of tomatoes to the ground when they made turns.  If people were really lucky, a truck would tip over and most of its contents would spill out on the ground, ready for the gleaners.

But the thing I learned our very first weeks in Davis was that the smell of cooking tomatoes filled the air every day for most of the summer.  The plant processed tomatoes into tomato paste.

Every time I got up and smelled cooking tomato aroma wafting our way from the Campbell's cannery I would be taken back to my childhood and the times my mother would make cream of tomato soup, using Campbell's tomato soup and milk and then serve it with a sice of balloon bread thickly lathered with real butter.  We would dip the tips of the bread into the cream of tomato soup. I loved  that taste.

After we'd been here a month, I wrote to ask Michele how long the smell of cooking tomatoes lasted.  I don't remember if she ever gave me an answer, but I came to love the smell of cooking tomatoes and when the plant closed and moved operations to nearby Dixon, I found I missed it.

The plant stood empty for many years but they have recently been given the OK to develop "The Cannery," which will build more than 500 homes on the land.  There has been activity behind the bushes that separated the cannery from the road for months now but last night I noticed that all the greenery has been cleared away and now there is a fence and all the buildings have been cleared away in preparation for laying out the new housing development.

The population of the city will increase significantly and I'm sure the homes will be beautiful, but for me, I like the small town feel, and I still miss the smell of tomatoes in the morning.

Day 59:  First day of School!

Yesterday at Logos

My report on Kaiser yesterday got so long that I never did get to Logos so I will do that today, for all of you out there who have written to say how much you enjoy these reports. Though, as I said, it was a pretty dull day.

First, for an update on my mother, I went to put cream on her arms this morning and she had no clue why I was doing it, or any memory of ever having been itchy.  She also -- and this is the saddest part of her dementia, for me -- didn't recognize Brianna and Lacie.  I showed her a video and she asked "what kids are those?"  I expressed surprise that she didn't know and said "they're your great grandchildren."  She got very defensive and said "Well I don't know them.  I've only seen them a couple of times" and then when I got the video started, she looked at them and said "now who are those kids?"

After waiting so long for grandchildren and feeling like I can't really be an obnoxious grandma to people around me whose grandchildren are now in high school by bragging about how adorable my grandchildren are, it makes me very sad that I can't even share joy at the girls with their great grandmother.  She feels absolutely NO emotional connection to them.

Dementia is a terrible condition.

When I got to Logos yesterday, I was pleased to see Sandy, back from her vacation.  She's been gone for the last 3 or so weeks.  I always miss our chats when we do the changing of the guard.  She told me about her vacation and especially glowed when she mentioned having been to Emily Dickinson's house.  (They had also been to Hyde Park and she was proudly sporting her new Eleanor Roosevelt t-shirt).

She had purchased two books by a Buddhist writer and we began to talk about my friend Toni Bernhard (author of the wonderful book "How to Be Sick"), which Sandy had read, though had not met Toni.  A guy looking through the store joined in on the conversation, as he was famliar with the author whose books Sandy had purchased.   The conversation evolved into a discussion of Buddhism, Tibet and China.  The guy's son lives in Chongqing.  It turned out all three of us had been to China.

The China guy bought about $30 worth of books, which looked like a promising start for the day, but alas, it was not.

There were no shoppers in the store for the next half hour.   Then a woman came in with two boxes of books to donate.  The boxes were heavy and Bruce was passing by, so held the door for her, but he didn't come in.  I'm feeling like I am starting to know the familiar folks of downtown Davis, after 40 years.

Again things were quiet for another 15 minutes until a guy with a big guitar-shaped backpack came in.  He was looking for the music to the song, "Rise Up Singing," didn't find it, and left.

I was so sleepy by then all I wanted was a nap.

Another 15 minutes before a couple came in to check the personal improvement section, but I guess they didn't find anything to help improve themselves and they left without either speaking or buying anything.

A trio came in, a man and a woman and the guy known as "The Compassion Guy" around town. His name is really David Breaux and he is a Stanford graduate and Davis resident who can usually be found standing on a corner downtown, near Central Park, asking people what their definition of compassion is. He has had a compilation book published with writings from this experience.  He also got permission from AT&T (which owns the property where he stands every day) to build a "compassion bench," which was done with the assistance of local artists.

The three looked around for awhile, but also left without buying anything.

A guy in a green and black Ladbroke shirt (Ladbrokes is the world's leader in on line betting and gaming.  I wonder if the "...broke" in the name is a sign!).  He was looking for a book by Richard Armour (we have one here at home, but not at the store) and, disappointed that he couldn't find one, left without making a purchase.

A very military looking guy strode purposefully into the store, asked if we hired veterans, and marched out again when I explained that we are all volunteers.

It was now 4 p.m. and I had made no sale since the first one to the Buddhist guy with the son in China.  I was feeling I should have brought a cot so I could take a nap.

Finally my friend arrived at 4:22 and bought a book on Japanese Textiles and one called "Through African Eyes."  My second sale in 2-1/2 hours.

A guy who reminded me of our kids' friend Kag, even down to his clothes, striking white and black long shorts and black shirt, was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the literature section.   He eventually pulled out four books and took them to the front table to read.   He wanted to know if I could give feedback on the book "Story of an African Farm," but I couldn't help him with that one.  He eventually left with a Walter Raleigh book.

A guy came in to check out the old books, laughing at some of the titles, "Pollyanna in Hollywood," and a Bobbsey Twins book (he confessed he had been a Hardy Boys guy).  He left without buying anything.

Finally to make sure the cash register still worked, I bought a book of Fodor's Paris to help us plan our free time in that city later this year.  My third sale.

"Eliza" came in, still heavily bundled up in blankets, but with very dirty bare feet.  She bought two volumes of i Ching and came to the desk.   Her eyes were deeply sunk in her head with big circles around them and she handed me money with very dirty hands.  I just want to take her home, give her a shower and feed her!

A guy came in talking on the phone about a video game, finished his converstion and left.

Peter arrived and I got ready to leave.  I had been there 4 hours and had four sales, one to myself.  So I was shocked to get a note from Susan saying that the store had taken in nearly $400.  Sandy must have had herself a VERY busy morning!

 

Day 47:  Happiness is learning that before even the second episode airs,
the show has been renewed for at least 13 more episodes in Season 2!

Big Wheel Keeps on Turnin'

I've been a show biz buff all my life.  I read all the movie magazines as a kid, my mother was a show biz buff too.  We saw all the movies, I had movie star trading cards and always followed the news of the celebrities.

Never in the over-the-top way that some fans do.  I just liked knowing there were people like that in my world and I was curious to know what they were doing, to borrow small pieces of their lives as printed on the magazine pages (not realizing that so much of it was fiction written by the studios). Today not so much since they all look the same to me and I don't know one from the other.  Heck, with some of the names, I'm not even sure what gender they are (I didn't know Cat Stevens was a guy until recently!).

With all the celebrity deaths that have occurred in the past 71 years, there are only three that have affected me profoundly.  Judy Garland's death in 1969 was the first. Judy Garland was my one long-lasting celebrity crush. I collected Garland everything, saw her in performance four times, met her once, chased her limo one time, and was one of the folks who rushed the stage holding upraised hands at the end of her Carnegie Hall concert (in San Francisco).  I remember her hand felt very small and very, very cold.  I could cry at Garland memories for years afterward her death.

I didn't have that kind of connection with him, but for some reason I was profoundly affected by Jim Henson's death.  Maybe because it was so unexpected and probably because I spent every day for years with our kids watching muppets.  Our Kermit the Frog still wears the black arm band that I put on him in the week following Henson's death.  The idea of Kermit with no voice was unimaginable.   (Yeah, he has a voice now, but it's not the right voice.  Like Julie Andrews -- someone whose voice was so familiar and it still comes out of the familiar face and mouth, but it's somehow...just not right any more).

Henson died in 1990, so it's been 14 years since a celebrity death has affected me, but boy has Robin Williams' hit me hard. And I can't put my finger on why.  He was a force of nature.  I loved his performances, but I can't say I was a die hard fan.  If he were to be appearing in San Francisco again, I probably would not rush right out and buy tickets to attend.  I didn't watch all of his movies.  But I was so taken by him whenever I happened to catch him on TV.   

Maybe it's because of the similarity of the circumstances surrounding his death to those surrounding Paul's death.  I could not sleep at all the night after I learned of his death and I couldn't figure out why until I remembered that I had not slept the night of Paul's death either.  And the memorials for Williams have been so, so heartfelt, so many people in real emotional pain, as I have been.  I watched The Birdcage the night of his death and, as I wrote on Facebook, it didn't hurt less, but it made me forget for a bit.

Today someone mentioned a movie of Williams' I had not heard of - The World's Greatest Dad - and said that Netflix was streaming it, so I immediately went and watched it.  I was a basket case afterwards.  If I had seen it last week, I probably would have said it was an OK movie.

Alison Willmore of the staff of BuzzFeed wrote a powerful article about this film, from which I will quote liberally.

He plays a father in World’s Greatest Dad, a 2009 indie written and directed by fellow comedian Bobcat Goldthwait. That may be the Williams role that I love best of all. It’s also one that is, for many reasons, almost unbearably sad to revisit now, not the least because it deals with themes of suicide, but also because its emotional epiphany is so hard-fought and so uncompromised, directly dealing with how people mourn and how we sanctify the dead....

Williams plays Lance Clayton, a high school English teacher, failed writer, and the father of a teenager boy named Kyle (Daryl Sabara) who’s an unrepentant little shit.  Kyle’s nearly friendless and hates everything except for porn, and he’s fond of throwing around the terms “fag” and “retarded” to refer to everything else, including his loving but exasperated single dad. Kyle dies in an accident involving masturbation, and in an act of parental love, Lance restages the scene as a suicide, penning a note that gets published in the school paper and makes Kyle posthumously popular for the fineness of his writing and his unflinching observations about identity and belonging....

The scene she describes shows Williams finding his son dead of autoerotic asphyxiation -- masturbating while cutting off his oxygen.  He walks in and sees his son with a necktie around his neck, connected to a closet door. When I watched the father's reaction to the son's death, I just wish Williams could have replayed that scene before he made his choice...would it have changed things to realize that his family would be feeling like this when they found his body?

It’s a role that showcases Williams’ underappreciated capacity for nuance — the scene in which he’s being comforted by a total stranger and can’t stop himself from giggling at the absurdity, a reaction the woman he’s talking to keeps mistaking for tears, passing him tissues. Or like this scene from the end (mild spoilers!), in which his face conveys such a quicksilver mix of sadness, regret, resignation, and the slightest touch of mischief. That clip doesn’t include the lines that follow, in voiceover, as the soundtrack kicks off the perfect song and a callback to earlier in the film: “I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It’s not. The worst thing in life is ending up with people who make you feel all alone.” It’s an observation to break your heart, but the sequence that it’s a part of is filled with such complex but exhilarated joy and mourning all at once. It’s the kind of role Williams could pull off so well. God, he’ll be missed.

Life will go on.  The big wheel keeps on turnin'.  Already people are now mourning the death of Lauren Bacall.  But as with the deaths of Judy Garland and Jim Henson, my personal world is a little smaller and, with Allison Willmore, I say, "God, he'll be missed."

Day 45:  Happiness is shooting the breeze with people with whom you have a VERY LONG history!

Fussin', Feudin' and Fightin'

It's surprising how many times I hear or read about siblings who haven't seen each other in years because of some family fight that happened decades ago.  Cousins who don't know each other because their parents don't speak.

Relatives of mine, 3 siblings, always seem to be fighting with one or another, or both of the other siblings and months or years may go by without contact among them.

Or things happen between siblings when a death occurs.   Things may have been just fine prior to the death, but when it comes to settling the estate, it gets ugly and people don't speak afterwards because one or more of the parties feel they have been slighted by one or more other parties.

Today I was speaking to someone about an upcoming social gathering hosted by one of their children. I asked if another of their children would be there because I had something to pass along.  No, I was told, there is a feud that goes way back and the siblings don't talk to each other any more.

This always makes me sad to hear because I have seen the other side of sibling relationships.  You won't find siblings closer together than Walt, his brother and sister.

I always figured that a big part of this was because their father died when they were so young (Walt, the oldest, was 15).  They and their mother were a force against the world and they worked together, played together and loved each other.   

Any social occasion where Walt, Norm and Alice Nan are together, they are always together, laughing together and just enjoying each other, often oblivious to others.  Not that they deliberately exclude people but they have a special sibling speak that it's difficult to join.

I've always been jealous of that because Karen and I, while not exactly feuding, were never close either.  We were oil and water growing up and when she left home and acknowledged that she was in a relationship a woman, in an era where lesbian relationships were not exactly accepted by anybody (heck, even PFLAG hadn't been formed yet), she kept herself away from the family for most of the time. though, as I have said before, the very last time I saw her, she and her girlfriend came for dinner and we had such an amazing time.  It was such fun. I remember standing at the door, waving goodbye to the two of them and thinking that maybe now that we were adults, we could finally be friends.  Two days later, her girlfriend put a bullet in her head.

But I have missed her sorely these past years, especially dealing with making decisions about my mother.  Ed, her stepson, was a big help, but he wasn't her son, so the decisions were left up to me and how I wish I had had a sister to confer with so I could be sure I was making the right decisions.

It saddens me that so many people throw away the thing I want most desperately -- a sibling who remembers our past and who has known me all of her life, who shares the jokes I can no longer share with my mother, who remembers what it was like being raised by our father.  But it's just me.

Given the relationship Karen and I had for 24 years, I have no guarantee that we would have become good friends in adulthood or that we would not become one of those fussing' feudin' and fightin' siblings, but this many years later, I have my fantasies that it would be better.

The thing that makes me the happiest is seeing how Jeri, Ned and Tom are friends with each other.  They are like Walt, Norm and Alice Nan and I love watching them get together and enjoy each other.  I wonder if that would have been the same if Dave and Paul had lived.

Look, all of you readers, if you have siblings and you haven't talked in awhile, call them.  Mend fences.  They are the only siblings you have and you need to cherish them.  Life is too short to cut sisters and brothers out of your life.

Day 42:  Happiness is seeing my 2 babies together--I raised them both from birth.

Today at Logos...and More

First off, the day started with a scare for me.  I went to Atria at 11:15 to have lunch with my mother.  I had brought my iPad so I could shoe her a video.  But when I got there, her newspaper was still in the box, which means she had not gotten up (or had forgotten to get her paper).  I didn't know what I was going to find when I went inside.  She was in bed and I couldn't tell if she was breathing or not.  I shook her shoulder gently and she pursed her lips and moved a bit on the bed, but didn't open her eyes. 

Knowing that she would be quite disoriented when she finally did wake up, I just left her a note and came home.  I called back in about 2 hours and she was awake, the TV was on and she sounded more chipper than I've heard her in awhile. I guess she really needed the extra sleep!

Now to Logos...It was only 90° outside when Walt drove me to the store, but it was humid and sweat was already dripping off of me by the time I reached the door.  Thank god for air conditioning...and the desk fan.  Peter jumped right up as I came in the door.  I could hear Susan in the back.

I was still settling in when a guy gave me a book on Statistics to purchase.  I didn't even look at him, so don't know if he was young, old, fat, skinny, or whatever!

A couple came in.  I was drawn to the guy's big grey trainers with shocking pink accents and laces.  (Aside:  I used to call them "tennis shoes" but athletic shoes come in so many different styles and uses -- running shoes, walking shoes, whatever shoes -- that I like the Australian "trainers" as a good all purpose term!). He bought a copy of "Atlas Shrugged."

A woman was looking through the bargain books and brought in two to buy.  She was carrying a white canvas bag covered with pictures of ants. She purchased the two books from outside and looked through one of them, which was a book of poetry.  She noted that someone had already left notes in it and we talked about how much fun it was to find someone else's notes in a used book you just bought.

A very tall, very skinny guy with very hairy legs was wandering around the store.  I didn't know if he was with a woman, who looked very fragile, very pale, in an old-fashioned white lace dress.  Her hair had a braid crown that joined together at the back and went down her back in a long heavy braid.  But they weren't together.  She bought 3 books from the literature section, a Zola, a Yeats and one other.

There was a man in black from head to toe, including a very heavy looking back pack.

Two women came in looking for "Love in the time of Cholera" -- and found it!

A grey haired man with a black shirt and jeans was checking out science fiction, even including removing books  from the shelf to see if there was anything hiding behind them.  He then spent some time going over the sheet music and bought two pieces.

Another couple came in.  He was holding a water bottle under one arm.  She looked like one of the ubiquitous blonde TV stars without make up -- like Kim Raver, who played Jack's ex-girlfriend in 24. They wandered around for awhile but didn't make a purchase.

A guy wearing a red "Fly Emirates" came in but things got kind of busy, so l I didn't notice when he left, but he didn't buy anything.

This was around 3-4 and was the busiest time (4-5 was dead!)  A guy with a pot belly, drinking some beverage bought a novel about the war in Vietnam. 

A woman with a sleeveless top which showed the beautiful dragonfly tattoo on her left shoulder came in, earbuds hanging over her shoulders.   As she entered the store, she pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head, gave a wave and said "hello." (nobody I knew personally, just a friendly woman)

She was followed by a perky business-type woman in brown slacks, a crisp white shirt and carrying a red bag.  She bought 3 books from the literature section and asked for information about volunteering at Logos.

An older guy wearing cargo pants and trainers with white socks spent a lot of time at the Fantasy section.  When he came to buy two books, I took his credit card and, when I looked at the name, realized this was a long-time friend of ours.  I hadn't seen him in years.  He is greyer, more wrinkled, and looks like he has lost a significant amount of weight.  I might have recognized him anyway, but I don't focus well on people coming in the door, and by the time he was looking at the fantasy shelf, the sun was coming in the door and it made focusing on details of his appearance difficult.  ("In the dusk with the light behind him" sort of thing)  But it was nice to see him, to briefly hear about his kids, and to send greetings back to his wife.

The chatty guy from the last few weeks came in and I groaned as he waved a cheery hello, but instead of settling in to talk, he got a book and sat down to read for about an hour.  When he finished, he put the book back and waved goodbye without saying more than "hello" to me.

A nicely coordinated guy came in, wearing blue slacks, a blue and red plaid shirt, a red ball cap with blue accents, and wide blue and red striped socks.  He brought a stack of books from outside and said he was going to "start a stack," and ultimately bought those plus four more from inside the store as well.

A couple from Sacramento returned.  Apparently they had spoken with Susan earlier in the day about books by an author the woman was looking for.  Susan had told her to come back after 6, but she showed up at 3:30 instead.   I had no information for her.  But she also wanted information on local movie theaters.  They had found two, but didn't know about the third, so I gave them directions.  The husband wandered around the store while the woman and I chatted about Vermont (where she is from) and California (where I and her husband are from). 

  

A grizzled farmer-type with a wide-brimmed tan hat, rumpled pants and a shirt hanging out started wandering around the store.  Suddenly he started sneezing very loudly, over and over again.  He was blowing his nose in a big purple handkerchief.  I asked, jokingly, if he were allergic to books.  He said if he were allergic to books he'd be dead, but he took his sneezes outside without buying anything.

A person of questionable gender arrived.  The hair was masculine, there was a lip ring and the voice seemed feminine.  The customer purchased a book by Spinoza and was tickled to find it because apparently the only other books had been about Spinoza, but none by Spinoza.

Bruce came in.  I hadn't seen him in weeks.  He seems to have a new-ish hat.  No sweater today and his white pants were, as always, dragging on the ground.  He carried a newspaper and a big paper bag.  People in Davis are often carrying bags these days, now that there is a ban on bags and stores have to charge if you want your items put in a bag.  He didn't buy anything this time, though.

A short man who looked like a character from a sit com came in.  He had a blue ball cap, pulled low over his eyes, oversized black glasses hiding his bushy eyebrows.  He had a thick moustache atop a mouth that seemed to be permanently pursed, and long side burns.  He had a stooped, loping gait with his head thrust forward, giving him the look of a character from a cartoon.  Too bad he didn't buy anything.

It was now 5 p.m. and my friend had not showed up, nor did he in the last hour either.

A woman bought some books from the bargain table, but then went into the children's room and came out thrilled that we had "Caps for Sale," her favorite book as a child, which she bought for her 3 year old niece.

The day ended when Susan started lugging in box after box after box of books, from her car.  I offered to help, but she said "I'm not insured for you," so I sat there and watched her make about a dozen trips, and I felt guilty.

Walt arrived and we said our good-byes to Susan and headed on home to find the messages from Char and from Linda, of Linda and Bob, folks we made friends with on the Ukraine trip last year. 

Now we are re-thinking the Alaska-for-our-50th plan.   I maybe giving up on the lifelong desire to do the inland passage after all.   Linda and Bob say they are taking a Viking ocean cruise in October of 2015.  Char and Mike talked about it and they are ready to sign up now (you have to).   Walt and I talked about it and decided we want to go too and will consider that our 50th anniversary celebration.  It's 6 countries in 13 days (yeah...yeah...If this is Tuesday...etc.  I hate that idea, but realize that at our age and level of activity, it's the best way for us to travel).  Ports of call are Barcelona, Spain; Toulon, France; Monte Carlo, Monaco; Florence/Pisa, Italy; Rome, Italy; Naples, Italy; Corfu, Greece; Dubrovnik, Croatia; Split, Croatia; and ending in Venice.  I read the itinerary and they had me at "Sagrada Familia" in Barcelona, which I've wanted to see since I watched a PBS special on it. 

Char is calling Viking tomorrow to start the ball rolling.   She's our official travel agent.

Day 39:  Happiness is thinking of swimming in this pool next year!

Do You Have Any Grey Poupon?

Rejoice, mustard lovers...today is your day.

I mean it.  Really.  Today is National Mustard Day, celebrated in grand style every year in Middleton Wisconsin.  It is a fun-filled day for the whole family and has traditionally included FREE hot dogs as well as music, games, other entertainment, FREE mustard sampling, and more. The Mustard Museum has been the official sponsor of this event since 1991.

Middleton, Wisconsin, it seems, is the home of the Mustard Museum (another of those oddball museums I would like to drive across America to explore...sort of like the Jello Museum, but with a bit more "bite" to it!)

The Mustard Museum is home to the world's largest collection of mustards and mustard memorabilia.  And I'll bet you didn't even know there was such a thing as mustard memorabilia, did you!

According to Barry Levenson, founder & curator of the National Mustard Museum, you can blame it all on the Boston Red Sox. In the wee hours of October 28, 1986, after his favorite baseball team had just lost the World Series, Barry was wandering an all-night supermarket looking for the meaning of life. As he passed the mustards, he heard a voice: If you collect us, they will come.

He did and they have. In 1992, Barry left his job as an Assistant Attorney General for the State of Wisconsin to open this most improbable museum, now one of Wisconsin’s most popular attractions. The Mustard Museum has been featured on The Oprah Winfrey Show, the popular game shows Jeopardy! and To Tell the Truth, as well as countless features on other national television and radio shows, and in major newspapers everywhere.

Did you read that?   The guy was Assistant Attorney General of the State of Wisconsin and he gave it all up to open a mustard museum!

The museum has collected -- get this -- more than 5,676 mustards from all 50 states and more than 70 countries.  The museum is so popular it is open 7 days a week, from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. and admission is FREE.

The on-line store includes the opportunity to buy an astonishing array of mustards and even a periodic table of mustards on a t-shirt.

I don't know about you, but when I was growing up, mustard was always that canary yellow, mild flavored French's mustard.  I didn't know there were any other kinds of mustards until I started seeing commercials for Grey Poupon.  I tried and and discovered that it tasted OK.   Still not what I grew up on.

My mustardy tastes expanded on a trip to Mendocino once when I tasted Mendocino mustard. 

Oh...myyyy!  This was a sweet mustard and I loved it.  I bought whenever I found it anywhere and ate it on anything that seemed to require mustard.  When I joined Weight Watchers, I was thrilled to discover that mustard was an OK thing to eat and you didn't need to count points....except for sweet mustards.  Wouldn't you know that with more than 5,000 mustards in the world, I had picked one of the very few that was fattening?

I learned when we would have Cousins Day that my mother has a love for Coleman's mustard, which I had never heard of before, but which I discovered I liked.   To me it tastes like it has horseradish in it (though a check of the ingredients does not reveal that).  It's difficult to find, though.  When she was still living in her house, I tried to buy her some Coleman's mustard, because she always complains about how expensive it is, but none of the grocery stores in Davis seemed to carry it at that time.

Apparently mustard is good for the skin.  The museum sells products for mustard baths (I wonder if you eat hot dogs as you bathe).

The gift store also has a selection of cookbooks, including one dedicated to the aforementioned Coleman's mustard, one called "Mustard on a Pickle" (I'll give one a WIDE berth!) and one called "Habeas Codfish: Reflections on Food and the Law."

You can order mustards with special labels, as a greeting for someone having a birthday...or baby.

To say "Get Well" or "Thank You," nothing says it better than mustard. And to help celebrate the new arrival (the new baby) or the recent welcome departure (divorce), mustard is the greeting that keeps on spreading.

Shakespeare mentions mustard four times in his plays and so for $60 you can buy a gift box with English mustards, an English marmalade, an English piccalilli, and "two fabulous Shakespeare toys" [sic]. You'll receive a box of Shakespeare Insult Bandages (includes one that mentions mustard) and a Shakespeare Action Figure.

You know, this entry started because I as looking for a quote about mustard because I read somewhere that this was Mustard Day. But I just had the best time ever going through the mustard museum web site.   And there is still more I haven't checked out yet...but this had to be the best

I may have to get myself a yodel pickle...after I brush my teeth with bacon flavored toothpaste, of course.

________________________________

 

Day 33:  It makes me happy to watch the dogs, tails wagging furiously

greet Walt when he comes downstairs in the morning.

 

Today at Logos

I started my day with lunch with my mother.  She was very disoriented today.  She said she had slept until 11 and so she was really confusesd and didn't know where she was or what she was supposed to be doing.  I found her in the dining room at 11:15 and she didn't know if she should order breakfast or lunch, couldn't find the breakfast items on the menu and then after ordering said she should go back to bed so she could wake up, thinking she had already eaten.  Loretta, one of the other women living there, who is about as confused as my mother sat with us.   They are good friends (though neither knows the other's name), and always have a good time teasing each other, so by the time the meal was over (lunch for me, breakfast for her), she was a bit more "with it."  Loretta apologized to the quiet woman who sat with us for the fact that the three of us were "nuts," she said, and the woman smiled for the first time and said not to apologize, that she had enjoyed listening to us.

By the end of my stint at Logos, it was 102 outside, which explained why there was not a lot of activity in the store for most of the day, especially as the day got later.  Not the kind of weather that makes you want to go out and wander around the streets.  But I did have some flurries of activity throughout the day.

As I got out of the car in front of the store and watched Walt drive off, I realized I didn't have my insulated bag of water and snack.  I tried to wave him down, but he didn't see me, so I called him right away and when he stopped the car to call me back, he said the bag was not in the car.  I had left it at home, so I was facing a hot afternoon without water.  Argh.  Thank God for the air conditioning and the desk fan. 

Shortly after I sat down, I saw "Eliza" pass by with her bike.  I marveled again at how she can walk the streets of Davis bundled up in blankets and warm clothes when the weather is so hot.  She didn't cme in, though.

I settled in to continue reading the Ruth Rendell book that I picked up at the store last week.

A very tall man dressed all in black (shorts, cut-off t-shirt) and looking like a cross between Steve Schalchlin and Justin Bieber came in.  He had very hairy legs, I noted.  He was looking for a copy of "The Princess Bride," which we did not have, so he left.

A woman came in with some Spanish workbooks from a class she had taken.  She left them as a donation.

A man with a baseball lcap that had a logo I could not read came in.  His shorts had tiny black squares all over them.  He checked Sci Fi and cookbooks but eventually bought 5 books with a history theme.  Told me he had a book seller's license and should not be charged tax.  He's been in before and I keep forgetting to ask Susan if this license/tax thing is true.  I just didn't charge him tax.

A trio of 2 women and one man entered.  One of the women was wearing a cut off t-shirt (no sleeves) with a skull in the center and 360 degrees around it alternated a tiger, feathers, and swords.  She was looking for a book of mixed drinks.  The three looked around for awhile, but left without making a purchase.

A woman wearing tights with some sort of black and grey pattern also arrived, wearing a t-shirt with a "Spin to go" t-shirt came in, but left without buying anything.

Now came my moment of flurry of activity.  Two different coouples came in, followed by another couple.  In all there were 11 people in the store.  Every aisle was filled with at least two people.  I don't think I've ever had a moment when the store was that full. Maybe they were all there to enjoy the air conditioning!

I couldn't keep track of them all, but one woman had a big camera slung around her neck and a guy had a messenger bag that was covered with buttons and flags.  I found out he was an organ donor from one of this buttons.

The man in one of the couples was a chemist (I determined from the shirt he was wearing from a Chemistry conference).  On the front of the shirt it had written Ah, with the chemical number 8.314 and the explanation that "Ah" was "the element of surprise."  He bought a small book of Emily Dickinson poems.

He was apparently with a woman in a long black dress who was wandering around another part of the store, carrying a coffee cup.  She found an Agatha Christie novel and carried it to the Ah guy by holding it by the corner with two fingers, as if she was carrying something nasty.  He was thrilled and bought that book too, and soon after his son also bought an Agatha Christie novel.

A girl in very short torn denim shorts was standing by the desk looking at cookbooks.  I noticed that her shorts had lace decoration along the side and I think she's been in wearing those same shorts before.

When the Ah guy left with his family the woman mentioned Nancy Drew books.  I asked if she had found some and she said they were at the front of the store.  We have had a whole collection of Nancy Drew books in the children's room ever since I've worked at Logos and I always thought I should re-read one of them just for fun.  Then last week two girls bought two of the books and asked if we had any more.  I found out that the whole bunch of books had been sold the week before.   Now there was a collection of books on display in the front, each volume contained two of the stories.

A man came in looking for a copy of a dictionary of additives and preservatives.  He said he was afraid he had donated it to us by mistake last week, but we couldn't find it and he said he would have to go and buy another one.

Lots of people checked out the bargain books outside, but none came into the store.  Finally a guy came in to buy one bargain book ($1), paid by credit card, and took several bookmarks with him.  He left his credit card behind, but remembered before he had gone far.

A man wearing shorts and an odd aloha shirt came in sweating and sighing to be inside in the air conditioned store.  He said it was 103 outside.

He was followed by a large man with an Alfred Hitchcock build who checked sci fi and humor and ended up taking a coffee table type book about cars to the front table to read.  When he later paid for the book, I noticed he was wearing a cool Mickey Mouse watch.

My friend showed up at 4:25, displaying none of the heat exhaustion that so many had mentioned.  He didn't stay long and bought a book on the art and architecture of ancient America.  I told him about Alice Nan's recent trip to Macu Picchu and he said he just might have to go there some day, but said that the book was the next best thing and that he could explore from home and that it was much cheaper.  I agreed.

A Middle Eastern guy in a hurry came in, picked out a copy of "The Shah," for a friend and "1001 classical recordings" for himself.   The entire transaction from the time he came through the door and the time he left took less than 5 minutes.

A girl wearing a very short skirt had legs that looked like they were covered in mosquito bites.

A thin old woman (she was probably younger than I am) with long thin grey braids that came to her waist and a skimpy sun dress that looked like it was in danger of having a wardrobe malfunction at any moment, from the way she kept pulling up the front brought in about 10-15 books from the bargain books and put them on the table at the front.  She said "I'm gonna buy so many books you won't believe it."   Ultimately she paid for 17 and when I asked if she needed a bag, she said her boyfriend was in the car outside and she'd just take them to the car.  On her way to the car, she found four more books outside she needed and then one more book.  She paid with a $100 bill.  We have been warned by the police that counterfeit $20s have been found this week, so we're supposed to check, but her $100 seemed for real.

Interestingly, the warning from the police says that if you suspect a bill of being counterfeit you should not put yourself in danger, but you should not give the bill back to the customer, and should detain him/her while you call the police and the secret service!  As Susan laughed--we don't have the Secret Service phone number on speed dial!  If you can't detain the person, you should at least get their car's license number.  Right.  In Davis, where everybody walks or bikes and you can't find a parking place anyway!  Fortunately, I didn't have to do that with this woman.

My last customer was a Japanese girl who was looking for easy books.   At least I think that was what she said.  It was very difficult to understand her, but I think she wanted a book that would be fun to read, but would be easy so she could work on improving her English.  I tried to help her find a book in the young people's section, but she told me 3 times what kind of books she likes to read and I couldn't understand her at all.  She did finally find a book she wanted to try, though.

Walt arrived at 6 and we hurried home to eat some leftovers for dinner,because I had a show to review at 7, so we had almost no time at all.  My weather app said that it was 101 outside and the very last thing I wanted to do was to go out again, but at least the theater was air conditioned.

Day 32:  Sunflowers always make me happy