Day 260...and, depending where you live, you might be having a wind event today. We are, in the Midwest, and O'Hare Airport was closed. The Babbitt's Books sign banged loudly the wind, and we did not put the half-price cart out on the sidewalk.
A number of customers blew in and out, one twice: a charming young man thrilled to purchase Shelby Foote's trilogy on the Civil War....for his dad's upcoming 60th birthday, until he called his mom and realized his dad would only want hardbacks, new. But he'll be back for more for himself, as we just got a lot of Civil War books, and he is particularly interested in Stonewall Jackson.
Carrie is reading RubyFruit Jungle, by Rita Mae Brown, because she loves that book, had always wanted a copy, and found one at Babbitt's. Thanks to Wikipedia, I finally know what that means. Why am I always the last to know? In the random coincidence zone, the mother in the novel is named Carrie, but she is not a likable character, I gather, and Carrie the reader probably is. She was very cheerful when I chatted with her.
In the wind event zone, I am tickled to share again with you "Wind Disorder," a poem by Ron Hardy read by Nic Sebastian at Whale Sound; you can hear it here in her wonderful voice, with just the right amount of slightly eerie wind disorder in it. Whale Sound is always clickable in the blogroll on the right, and there are new offerings daily.
An amazing variety of clouds flew past the picture window all day long at Babbitt's--white heaps on pure blue, dark gray flannel blankets, blankets with white lace.
And now I am off to my book group, and will report on that, and more, in this blog tomorrow.
"You must change your life," said Rilke. So that's what I keep doing. I've been an encyclopedia editor, a poetry editor, an actor and director, a library clerk, and an assistant professor of English. Now I'm a freelancer, work part time in a library, blog "eight days a week," study the random, tend perennials, and listen to birdsong.