The Further Adventures of the Terrible Smell

Strange Brian, has forwarded a theory to explain the odd and
intermittent smell in the shop.
It has been particularly vibrant recently becoming so peculiar, so
specific unto its self that we have come to regard it as an entity in
its own right.
This is, in fact, what Brian maintains it is.
Brian walked in on friendlily banter between myself and Two about the
subject, which has be proven, despite his earlier blog on this subject
not in fact to be in any way caused by Two or activities of Two. Despite
it's affinity with Malcolm we have no reason to believe that they are
related either, and myself and Sam were discounted from the scope of
inquiry sometime ago.

(Sam incidentally always smells of heat, the smell of stones baked in a
summer sun, a curious smell but if you are the type of person to notice
these kinds of things you'd recognise it instantly. Two smells of
Chocolate and washing powder and Malcolm smells, often unfortunately, of
what ever he has been napping on, or near.
It is weird but I'm female and we notice this kind of stuff.)

SB when appealed to for his opinion first looked at us as if we were
deranged and then told us in tones clearly indicating that we should
know this, that the smell was in fact a pan dimensional being, only able
to manifest himself in our world as a non-corporal being. Apparently
this sort of thing is well documented in the kind of magazines Brian
reads. Brian further advanced the theory that he, the pan-dimensional
being, seems particularly fond of Arthur Ransome adventures.

When Two mentioned this theory to Sam, Sam looked grumpy and said
" I don't care what dimension he is from, this is not a library, go and
tell him to buy before he reads our books. I will expect this matter to
be resolved by the end of the week"

Now Two and I are left with an even more troublesome question, how do
you stop a pan-dimensional being shop lifting?

The adventures of the stuffed sheep or where is the Craft section?

"Excuse me! "
"Hello "I say looking up "can I help you?"
"Yes "says customer "I'm looking for the crafts section"
As this particular customer looks like a giant unraveling jumper, I'm
not surprised.
"It's through those doors" I say "up the stairs and second room on the
right , there is a stuffed sheep in the corner"
"Right" says lady and disappears.

Twenty minutes later there is a polite cough as I'm up the ladder in
Poetry.
"Hello again "I say "any luck?"
"No "says slightly flustered, hand knitted woman
" There is no Craft section. I've looked where you said and it's not
there."
"Hmm "said I. "I'll just check with you." which is code for lord
preserve us from the terminally confused.
So we go though the doors, up the stairs, past the first room on the
right and blimey she is correct. There is no craft section, there is no
stuffed sheep, and there is no second room.
"Err "I say "I'm terribly sorry. I'll just check with my colleague."
Minion 2 and I are currently sporting Spider man walkie-talkies,
borrowed from my nephew, they are handy for calling tea related
meetings.
So as bobbled lady watches, I contact Two.
"Two" I say "where is the craft section? "
There is a moment confused silence over the airwaves.
"Are you taking the piss?" Two asks.
"No" I hiss into the hand set, turning my back to knits with yak woman.
"Where the hell is Craft?"
"Um "says Two, his wariness carrying loud and clear "OK. You know the
double doors by the counter/Well it is through those, up the stairs, and
second room on the right. There is a stuffed sheep in it, you can't
miss it."
"I'm standing there now" I hiss "it's not here"
"What? "says Two " the sheep's missing ? "
"No " I say, "well yes,the sheep is missing, but so is the room"
"I'll be right there " Said Two.

Two and I stare at the space where the room was. Mrs Woven from thistles
has left in a huff convinced our blank incomprehension is an elaborate
prank.
"Do you think " 2 asks "that Sam has , err , moved it ?
"The entire room ?" I say with it must be admitted, awe in my voice.

Sam comes back from a buying trip that afternoon.
"Boss" I say "have you ... um .. done anything with the Craft
section?"
Sam gives me a pitying look, that we usually reserve for terminally
stupid customers.
"No "I say hurriedly "it's gone. Really Boss it has." Beside me 2 nods
"Hum" says Sam and starts off. Two and I follow behind. We go through
the doors, up the stairs, and there, second door on the right is the
craft section.

I think the stuffed sheep looks more cynical than usual.

Ain't love loverly ?

Spring is in the air and lovers appear like mushrooms on the wooden pallets we have rotting in the back yard of the shop.

Clearly there is something about bookshops that brings out the romantic side of some people. Maybe it is the quiet , maybe it is the long winding avenues of books, whatever, everywhere you look this week there have been couples playing peek a boo round the shelves. Frankly it is all quite sickening.

Worse than this Malcolm seems to have been smitten too with the love bug, already given to alternating between poetic languor against book shelves and
macho posturing in the window he has now added singing/caterwauling and coming in to the shop really late to his talents. We have no idea who his paramour is but frankly I hope the situation resolves itself shortly, the anticipation is unnerving us all.

To more practical matters, I am reading a series by Patricia Briggs featuring Mercedes Thompson, a mechanic and coyote shaped skin walker. I have a love-hate relationship to the bit-chick-lit genre. I love the idea but so many of them end up going all Anne Rice/Laurel K Hamilton on me. My ideal of character development goes beyond the character acquiring more and weirder sexual partners. But so far Patricia Briggs is OK by me.
Minion 2 is reading The Seven Basic Plots by Christopher Booker
Malcolm, for reasons explained above, is dozing in the poetry section and Sam is reading The Green Dogs of Sorrow by Marshall France, which he says is magnificent but flawed.

I meanwhile, am off to do something about those rotting pallets.

What would your cat say about you?

One of the best things about working in a bookshop and are there are many good things believe me, is the sheer number and variety of books I am daily surrounded by.
SH has a liberal policy toward the stock, if no customer actually dares wrestle it from your hands and if it is going back into the shop at some stage: he is quite happy for you to borrow it.
(This is one of the ways he retains staff, I have become so attached to a lot of the books acquired this way that I daren’t leave in case I have to give them back!)
My most interesting recent acquisition is a fab collection of short stories by Saki. If you have never encounter this fantastic writer I hereby gift you with a snippet of a short story called “Tobermory"
Synopsis- At a country house party a visiting professor announces to the guests that he has perfected a procedure to teach animals’ human speech. He demonstrates this on his host's cat. Soon it is clear that he omitted to teach Tobermory to be silent about certain facts…

Major Barfield plunged in heavily to effect a diversion.
"How about your carryings-on with the tortoise-shell puss up at the stables, eh?"
The moment he had said it every one realized the blunder.
"One does not usually discuss these matters in public," said Tobermory frigidly. "From a slight observation of your ways since you've been in this house I should imagine you'd find it inconvenient if I were to shift the conversation to your own little affairs."
The panic which ensued was not confined to the Major.
"Would you like to go and see if cook has got your dinner ready?" suggested Lady Blemley hurriedly, affecting to ignore the fact that it wanted at least two hours to Tobermory's dinner-time.
"Thanks," said Tobermory, "not quite so soon after my tea. I don't want to die of indigestion."
"Cats have nine lives, you know," said Sir Wilfred heartily.
"Possibly," answered Tobermory; "but only one liver."
"Adelaide!" said Mrs. Cornett, "do you mean to encourage that cat to go out and gossip about us in the servants' hall?"

See the full story at http://www.sff.net/people/DoyleMacDonald/l_tober.htm or of course better still buy it at a good book shop near you.