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Melodramatic, that’s all.

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Winter and spring are battling it out and I’m stuck in the middle.

The weather can’t decide if it’s warming up or staying cold. The sun can’t decide if it wants to stay out a little longer or go into hiding at 5:30 in the evening.

I usually only get to enjoy, what few sunny days we get, on the way home from work. It’s kind of ok though, because that’s my favorite part of the day. The way the sun shines it’s left over golden hues on that which has yet to be taken into darkness.

I’m in an office in a basement for 8-9 hours a day and there’s always so much to do once I get home; cook dinner, bathe Edyn, spend an hour running around in circles while she tries to finagle her way out of bed time, get myself showered, get the house picked up – without actually accomplishing anything, try to spend time with my beloved, etc. etc. You know. Never enough hours in the day, and all that.

But today, in my futile attempt to temporarily combat my ever growing, ever festering cabin fever, I decided that I’d take Edyn out on a drive and stop at our favorite bookstore to add to our growing collection. It’s a dream of mine, after all, to have a room dedicated entirely to reading.

This bookstore is 5 minutes away from us, and once you step in the door you have to watch where you step because the shelves are so full that they overflow onto the ground, and only a narrow pathway exists to take you from fiction to biography and everything in between. And the owner? Genuine as they come. She might not have remembered names, but she knew faces and mine was one she tucked books away for. The front desk area is more of an area to stack collections for customers who came in looking for specifics. (Mine being authentic, original, in whatever shape they came in, Daphne Du Maurier books.)

It smells like old paper and history, and it’s perfect.

At least it was.

We pulled over to find a “For Lease” sign out front, the light on in the, well, what would have been, the front desk and children’s section, and nothing but empty walls.

I actually cried a little. For the owner. For myself (selfishly). For the customers, both loyal and drop-ins. It was a landmark. It was a place where Edyn and I could go and browse and that was important for me, for us to have those kind of memories. Not that that’s the only used bookstore that will ever exist, but I kind of renamed it “our bookstore”.

I really don’t deal well with change. Like, at all.

 

 

 

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