I’ll miss it, but, I’m glad it’s over

It is a beautiful sunny day,

chilly and bright,

Spring,

one of it’s many moods.

Yesterday was my last day,

open to the public,

I may have a blow out sale for a day or two, you know, one of those fill a bag ten bucks kind of deal, but, basically yeah, that’s all she wrote.

The last day went well,

very well,

exceedingly well,

lots of sales,

and,

aside from the appearance of,

the usual turkeys,

a positive atmosphere.

Most of the gang,

my salon guys,

people who like to talk,

books and politics,

and,

who strangely enough,

are,

mostly,

men,

also quite a few,

neighborhood people,

coming in,

to show solidarity,

and,

to witness,

the closing of what is,

yes,

I admit,

an,

institution.

Hard,

to be the one,

to close the local bookstore,

down.

Of course,

I had limited options,

and,

I kept it going,

much longer,

I think,

than most others,

would have managed.

Still….

I remember when I bought the place,

and,

moved,

lock, stock, barrel,

and,

tens of thousands of books,

down the road,

I don’t suggest this as an activity, it gave me a hernia, literaly!!

I remember picking the pictures,

to illustrate the sections,

erecting my door of writers,

the door that leads to the basement had dozens of pictures of writers, found on Google images or from the back jackets of damaged books- poets and playwrights, novelists and essayists, Quebecois, American, British, French, German. Popular and slightly obscure. Some like Hemingway, Twain and Whitman, with instantly recognizable faces, some that customers needed to squint and read the label. I was proud of that door and  the idea of illustrating famous names with often, unknown faces. All the pictures were black and white, stood out, not too much, just right I think:-)

I remember picking the wall colour,

a sandy beige,

going with a strange,

peach for the doors,

to the basement and the bathroom,

as well as the window display,

I thought the sun would look good,

reflecting off the peach,

I sort of regretted it ever since

🙂

I was proud of my quaint ,

and,

yes,

dusty

😛

little bookshop,

it was mine,

I believe my personality was,

reflected throughout,

both beige and peach,

bookish and occasionally,

dusty.

I will miss it,

the look of it,

the sound of it,

the smell of the books.

the smell of coffee,

from the cafe next door.

I won’t miss,

the cold and draftiness,

the wool sweater from,

October to May ness of it,

the swealtering hot of the Summer,

the noise and the dust,

from the street,

the endlessly need to be jiggled toilet.

I will miss,

the quiet,

the time to read and talk,

really talk,

about things other than the weather,

and,

the corruption of our politicians.

I’ll miss the intelligent discourse,

and,

the helping people find books,

discover the wonder of reading.

The wonder of young people,

having confidence in your experience,

and choices,

the trust, the mentoring.

I won’t miss the people who forever seek,

the flavour of the month,

and,

who tell themselves,

they are doing you a favour,

by coming to your store rather,

than going to the big box bookstore,

they aren’t, you don’t have, nor want, Fifty Shades Of Grey!!!

The bookstore era,

represents,

eight years of my life

A period in which,

I have grown,

Immensely,

and,

also well,

aged.

I find that I have so much more,

patience about helping people,

and,

taking the time,

and,

so much less with pretension,

and,

time wasters and rudeness.

I have loved my bookstore,

my customers,

I gave them lots,

and,

they have given back,

so much.

RIP Encor’lire,

I’ll miss you.

(:

Have a great day.

Later girls,

BB

***I’ll publish some before and after pics soon and tell you about the dismantling, but, the bookstore era is now, over. I hope I didn’t bore you all too much with this stuff***