Weekend Notes from the Bookshop
With added cat content
Good morning! I start the day with getting the A-frame out to the corner - it’s a gorgeously sunny day set to be warmer than it should be in April. When I get back to the bookshop, the neighbour is walking her cat on its leash on our fence. Hard to resist the cat snap. I decide it’s the day to let our pup Chilli work the shop with me.
One of the other things I do is facilitate a weekly casual sketch club. We meet at different locations around town every Saturday morning, and on these days I have my one helper staff the shop so I can get out with the group. Today though I couldn’t make the session because I had an artist collecting an artwork, and this was the only time they could make it in. So I missed out on Sketch Club. Boo.
Visitors from Geelong who have been coming to our town for over 20 years have just “discovered” us! They are quite upset to learn how long we’ve been here without telling them.
A gentleman comes in, waves at me as he strides past my desk, and pulls up a chair in front of the sci-fi shelves. This generally means that he has a list to go through. Science fiction buffs often carry lists (or “forget” their lists), and they’re nearly always after one specific volume of a series, in a specific edition. Sure enough, he finally comes to the counter and say, “Well, I’ve ticked another three off my list!”
A whole family, and the family dog, come in. My pup (1yo spoodle) meets their pup (6 month old golden retriever). There’s a lot of proud pup parenting conversation that follows, from both sides.
A guy saunters in in t-shirt and shorts, sandals and socks. They briefly talk about how they’ve travelled here from Queensland and I guess that explains the socks. They saunter out again.
Another visitor, wearing a camera around his neck, picks up a preloved art book on photography. He takes a photo of Chilli sitting on the counter chair.
A family with two kids wander in. I take Chilli around the desk to say hello. Apparently their daughter likes dogs, but not their son. She gives Chilli a tentative pat. I say, “You’ve got a friend for life now.” The father corrects me. “More like your dog has a friend.” He then asks for true crime but it’s a section we are very light on, mainly because it’s not a genre I love, and it’s my bookshop. But I do show him the excellent book, The Five: the Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Ripper by Hallie Rubenhold. It isn’t what he’s looking for though, of course it’s not.
A woman comes to the counter and goes through her bookclub list with me, to see if we have any of them (we have two). As she’s paying for them, I ask where she’s bird-watching today. She looks at me, horrified. “I - well, how do you know?” I point to the binoculars hanging around her neck. “Bit of a giveaway.” She laughs, clearly relieved that I’m not actually stalking her.
Mother and daughter come in on a mission. They’re visiting town for two days. They want Percy Jackson (tick!), and Cormac McCarthy (out). They’ve obviously chosen the Percy Jackson for a reason, because as they leave I overhear the mother say, “Right, you’re going to write a thank you note and say ‘Here’s my recommendation’ and you’re going to get that girl reading!”
A browsing man quietly goes through the shelves for some time. He notices the recommendation I’ve stuck on the wall for one of my favourite books, ever. He asks about the book, I tell him about the book, and he purchases said book. Very satisfying process. The book is Grimmish by Michael Winkler. Here’s the quote, by Helen Garner no less. It should be mentioned that it was the first self-published book to make it to the Miles Franklin shortlist. Keep your eye on this author. This photo reminds me to re-do these notes - they’re looking a little worn.
Visitors from Geelong with a 15yo who’s a real reader, and who picked up Tristam Shandy, while also asking for TS Eliot. They said he’s going to work in their local bookshop soon, and I think that’s perfect.
A visitor from nearby Warrnambool drops in with her young person, who comes to the desk and declares, “I’ve found the Golden Ticket!” It turns out he means the chair and footstool (but actually the footstool) inspired by a certain classic book. His mum pointedly asks, “Which book has the golden ticket in it, do you remember?” He rolls his eyes and says, “Of course I know it’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Mum beams at me, so proud. Then he adds, boosting the pride in her eyes by a breathless factor, “And that’s written by Roald Dahl. Of course I know that.” Here’s the chair. My clever friend, Liz Gannon, taught herself upholstery and has made several of the chairs in our shop.
Two people walk in. “We saw your sign and thought we’d come in.” It’s always reassuring when plans work out as intended.
A visitor picks up the children’s book, “Oh, Carrots!” for their young person who loves bunnies. I ask if she also loves carrots. “Not so much, no.”
Someone asks for the book, The Rabbit with the Golden Eyes. I suggest that perhaps they mean, The Hare with Amber Eyes. They do.
A lovely local brought in a visiting cousin and the three of us had quite the chat about being in our mid-50s … she left with a copy of Rebecca Solnit’s A Field Guide to Getting Lost. And then, in the best visitor behaviour possible, went and wrote a lovely review about our shop for google.
And there is my day. I hope you’ve enjoyed these snippets from my day in the bookshop. I promise that even after 20 years none of this stuff gets old - I really love every day I’m here. As you can see, it’s also very quiet, and I could make better coin by working at the local IGA. The seesaw that teeters between ‘priceless’ and ‘practical’ is a constant one.