The Lady of Book Looks Ahead

I. "Book's"

People really do refer to me as the Book Lady at work--for instance, someone called the thrift store asking to speak to the Book Lady, with a question about donations.

My favorite was when I overheard one of my coworkers saying to another, "Tell Books to put that on Craigslist."

Six weeks into my new job, I finally took down this sign, below, which had been hanging by two paperclips from the framework of the ceiling tiles, probably forever.

It was so high, it was mostly unnoticeable, but 
1. It added visual clutter to an already cluttered store
2. I love it (the apostrophe!) & wanted it for my desk area

Here I am, the noble Lady of Book:
 
II. Yahrzeit

I only noticed when I saw this photo the gap in the line-up on top of the shelf--Charles de Gaulle's Memoirs of Hope used to be standing up there.
Yay! Someone bought it. $1.99.
I would have bought it for my father, who liked deGaulle (why? too late to ask now), if my father were alive. In fact, today is the yahrzeit of his death. 
And say, Amen.*

I miss my father more as time goes on. 
Not miss him to talk to--we rarely talked, and rarely easily––but just miss knowing he was there, in Madison, with his cats and his newspaper, walking to the public library with his MacBook Air laptop---the one I'm typing on now (so lightweight! I thought, until I got an iPhone), going to the gym 3x/week (he was in good health, except for the liver cancer--ha!).

Mostly, to tell the truth, I just hate that sense of No One Behind Me. (Though there's still my auntie, who turns 93 next month...) 
It's like standing facing away from a precipice, knowing you can't step backward.

III. Looking Ahead

I am happy, however. Of course we can only see through a fuzzy glass, and I am no haruspex [see below], but looking around and ahead, things look good. 

For instance, my boss checked book sales for June, my first month as Book Lady, and they were up around 50%:
In May, we sold 940 books, in June, 1400!
(Most sell for about a buck or two a piece––& half that (49¢) for kids books, which sell a lot.)
That's a lot of books--pretty good for a little thrift store, don't you think?

I am proud of my work, and pleased for the Greater Good:
I love books and am happy to spread them around. (Probably a few more left the store, uncounted too.)

And this morning, I got the COOLEST request from my Latin-teaching friend.
She wrote:

"I'm working on my lesson plans for the Roman Comedy class.  One of the things we are reading involves the taking of auspices.  I'd like to have the students act out the roles of augur, haruspex and astrologus.  For the haruspex, I'd need an animal whose liver could be inspected.  Can I hire you to find a stuffed animal that would be appropriate for Roman haruspication, clean it, and make it so that it could be opened up and some sort of liver pulled out and examined? "

I replied:

"OH MY GOD YES!!!!

You have made my entire life worthwhile!

OK, a bit of an exaggeration, but what you ask brings together so many of my loves: stuffed toys, literature, fun ways to learn, and of course, friendship."

(The timing is just a touch of a little weird, because of the liver connection, but it's entirely wonderful--my father would have gotten such a kick out of this!)

I immediately did some research and found a model for a stuffed animal liver:
"The Liver of Piacenza"
A bronze sheep's liver found near Piacenza with Etruscan inscriptions (for divination):

 From the Wikipedia entry, "Haruspex":
In the religion of Ancient Rome, a haruspex was a person trained to practice a form of divination called haruspicy, the inspection of the entrails of sacrificed animals, especially the livers of sacrificed sheep and poultry. 

And now I am going to have lunch with my sister.
Be well, all. Take care of your livers!

*The Mourner's Kaddish