How hot is it? Well, it is SO hot that when somebody called and asked if they could drop off two boxes of books, I just sighed and said “Yes”.
And it is SO hot that he never showed up. Just goes to show it’s an ill heat wave that boils nobody’s tea. (Or maybe it goes to show something else. It’s too hot to decide.)
Yes, I do certainly remember the year it was so hot that the Bughouse Square Debates had to be held between two huge fans the size of jet engines. But the weather has promised to moderate a bit, particularly when I explained I’d be selling all those nice meteorological books we got from the Sears Roebuck corporate library.
Have I mentioned the Sears Roebuck corporate library? Have I mentioned the flood of books on quilts and quilting? Did I tell you about the TWO Andy Warhol books he wrote in? The John F. Kennedy AND the Bobby Kennedy autographs? Did I mention the hardcover report on the prophylactic industry in the United States? Did I hint that all these things were for SALE? That you can give us money and carry them AWAY?
It’s one of the melancholy matters in setting up the fair each year: I spot things I should have talked about and never mentioned to you: all those books on violin-making, all those pieces of viola music, the pretty little notebooks with marbled covers, the do-it-yourself kits (two, I think, with colored pencils, one with little tubs of dye for tie-dyeing, one with tubes of paint for painting porcelain, and I think I even remember one fairly modern paint-by-number kit.) Did I mention the collection of a scholar in African-American history, which included about thirty copies of the b ook he wrote, including the copy he inscribed to his mother?
And did I mention that all these books have this tiny penciled mark in the upper righthand corner of the first white page? That’s the price, honey hominy: it means you pay that much money and you can take the book home and look at it in your own easy chair. Yeah, you COULD bring your easy chair with you, but it’s kind of hot, remember. (We have applied for cooler weather next weekend; you just have to know which city department takes the form.)
This is ta-ta for a week or so, pomegranate dressing. I am going on safari, hunting for nice people who will pay $3,000 for an Andy Warhol soup can. If I make it, I’ll tell you about our adventures. Drop by the library next weekend: look at some literature, say hello to the squirrel statues, and enjoy the air-coinditioning.