Looking Up

I'm not really going slowly here, of course––a coworker took my photo goofing around in the furniture room, trying out this newly donated leather couch I like ($125)--not that I have room for another couch besides my orange one, and I wouldn't give up the color.

(I'm mentioning this because I'm tempted. But I already have two brown walls--how much brown do I need, and in the Minnesotan winter, how much would be wise?)
 
I'm heading, in the photo, back to my workspace, after shelving the book cart––its "Balloon Chase Vehicle" bumper sticker came from the donated estate of famous hot-air balloonist Don Piccard. 
My cart also says, "not for sale" and "c'est la vie".  

My books area is to my right--both sides of the aisle between that fake tree and the door to the main room, where clothes and housewares are.

Aaaand... here's my workspace––that's my desk, buried bottom, right. 
Mr. Furniture (the lead worker in the furniture room) complained to me recently about what a mess my area was. I clean it up occasionally––but it soon reverts to this:

However, I do make an effort to cheer it up:
I hung that string of lights on the fluorescent light fixture, and dangled yellow Woodstock in a Christmas hat flying overhead.

The former book lady had always left her desk clear at the end of the day--Mr. Furniture mentioned that to me.

I know, I said, and she did it by throwing cool old books in the recycling. 
After she left, I discovered a first edition (1896) of Vol. 2 of Ulysses S. Grant's memoirs in the recycling.
Its front cover was off, exposing the beautiful marbled end papers.
I put it out for $20, and it sold.
(Our usual book prices are 33¢ to $1.99.)

After six months on the job, however, I have more sympathy for my predecessor, who'd been there fifteen years. The onslaught of donations, many of which are along the lines of water damaged, former bestselling paperbacks from the 1980s, does get overwhelming.

However, there've been lots of great donations lately––
I even wonder if people are more likely to donate if they see the cool stuff going out on the shelves?

I think so:  

People want their things they cared for to continue to be cared for, and to find new homes.
bink just donated some cool old books because, she said, she knew I would sell them, not throw them out.

I put this series (ex-library books) from bink face forward, showing their cool covers:

What we see, what we look at, matters, eh?
Usually I bike to work, but yesterday I walked.
This is a beautiful, one-block path alongside a parking lot, where I can pretend I'm in birch woods...

...if I ignore the street:

I recently listened to an episode on my favorite podcast, Hidden Brain, that talked about the value of seeing even a little bit of nature during your day.
I think it was this episode? www.npr.org/2018/11/12/666993130/zipcode-destiny-the-persistent-power-of-place-and-education

The researcher said that since she discovered that, now when she walks her 10 minutes to work, she looks up at the trees the whole way.
At this time of year, here, looking up means looking at patterns of black branches against a gray sky––
a nice reminder of our brains at work! since they look like branching neurons.

I like winter, at this stage:
the new snow is still pretty and bright; the temperatures are above 10ºF /-12ºC, which is comfortable if you're in motion; 
people are mostly in a decent mood as we head toward holidays...
By mid-January, none of this will be the case.