Fly High Lil Pine

It is with great sadness that I write today that Lil Pine has died. She was 14 years old, and was in good health for most of those years (which isn’t bad for a collie mix – most dogs that size live about 10 years). In early December of 1996, my then-fiancé (now husband) Tom and I were driving home from my job at a bakery when Tom noticed a little creature dart across a road and huddle under a little pine tree. He thought it was a fox and stopped to take a closer look. It wasn’t a fox, but a puppy. She was alone and there was no one around, so we scooped her up and brought her in our vehicle. She was adorable, fluffy, and hungry. I had with me some finger bread from the bakery, so I tore off a chunk and fed it to her. In her hunger, her sharp little puppy teeth scraped my fingers – it was the first and last time I ever felt her teeth that way. Over the next couple days, we tried to find who the owner of the puppy was, but the most likely candidate was shady (to put it nicely), so we kept her. Tom named her Little Pine (or Lil Pine) since we found her under a little pine tree. We knew she would grow to be a sizeable dog because her paws were so big (she reminded me of a baby egret). At the time we brought Lil Pine home, we also had a two year old Staffordshire terrier named Dexter. The three of us raised the puppy. We also had two cats, but Lil Pine was the baby of the family until our daughter was born in 2001. My mind is filled with memories of Lil Pine today. As a younger dog, she was very shy and incredibly sweet. She was the kind of dog that if someone stepped on her or sat on her, she never complained. At most, she would wriggle out of the way. She shed her shyness after Dexter died in 2007, but she remained incredibly sweet to her very last day. Thank you to all of you who gave her so much love at Beagle Books. She loved being at the bookstore and it was because Beagle customers were so good to her. It saddened me to stop bringing her, but she had difficulty breathing, occasionally had accidents, and towards the very end lost a lot of weight (she was being eaten by cancer). I was afraid her condition might frighten our children customers. This isn’t a very coherent entry, but it’s hard to be coherent in grief. Please forgive me if I occasionally burst into tears. Please give your own pets as much love and attention as you can, and again, thank you for all the kindness and love you showed Lil Pine during her stay with us here on Earth.

The Oops Drawer

One of the first times I met with my bookbinding mentor, David, he opened a drawer and pulled out what he called his “oopses” – book covers that didn’t fit the intended text blocks quite right. “Take these home, take them apart, and see how I constructed them,” he told me. I did, and hadn’t thought much about it lately. Until Thursday. On Thursday, I finished the construction of a book cover that I was quite pleased with – front and back boards were identical with 90 degree corners. The spine was spaced just right between the boards. The fabric covering was tight and smooth. I took the text block for which the cover was intended, inserted it into its new cover and discovered the cover was just a little short on width. Oops. Sigh. As a distraction (before starting over on a new cover), I opened up the oops drawer, and just for kicks, I counted David’s oopses – 41! Now there’s 42 in the drawer.

Bindery Tours

Recently, Beagle Books (& Bindery!) hosted the After-Hours Chamber Event. Basically, it’s a party by the hosting business, open to the public, but targeting other business owners in the area to come check out the host’s business. In the literature the Commerce of Chamber sent out about this event, mention was made that tours of the new book bindery was available to interested folks. I wasn’t really sure anyone would want a “tour”, and if not, no big deal. One of the first attendees was a friend of mine who asked for a tour. I told her, “Sure, I can practice my spiel on you, if you don’t mind.” By the time we reached the top of the stairs to descend into the bindery, three more people had joined the tour. I lost count, but I think by the end of the party (2 hours), I gave the tour six times. Sometimes it was a small group, only two people, but still! The next day, two people who had attended the event brought me books to repair! Why am I still surprised by the interest in book binding? If I was interested, why wouldn’t others be too? One of the books brought to me for repair is a book of poems, passed from family member to family member. The book has been signed to someone so many times, the family is out of room to keep passing it on (don’t worry, I’ll remedy that). What a treasure! And the person who brought the book to me has entrusted it to me, what an honor!
I admit it hasn’t been a worry-free ride. I’m struggling to learn to repair corners to an acceptable standard of quality. My mentor is no longer on this Earth, and even though I routinely ask him questions, the answers come slowly and not in the traditional way. But still, how blessed I am!

Response to a recent question

I’m giving everyone (except me) a break from the bindery today. I recently received an email with a good question. Below is the email I received:
I just finished The Book Thief, and I can't remember when I've cried that hard. And the prose! Well, I suppose the prose was why I was crying, because everyone was so real and so beautiful (or not, as the case may be.)
Why is it that so much of the best literature these days is written for young adults? OK, I Capture the Castle was written in the middle of the 20th century, but it was re-released now. Nobody can put down the Hunger Games series once they start, and teens are not the only ones mesmerized by the Twilight books. Granted, that's not so much great literature as a conjunction of attributes that make it a phenomenon, but it's still something special. And then there's Harry Potter, of course. Maybe the great saga of recent years.
Anyway, what is it about literature for young adults?

Here’s my answer (and admittedly, I think some of this answer may have come from a conversation I once had with staff member Cindie):
Young adult authors are FORCED to come up with really fantastic story ideas (PLOT), whereas sophisticated adult readers are more interested in the quality of the prose. But- I think a number of YA authors have figured out that well-written YA books appeal to 2 audiences: kids and adults. Kids could care less about the writing, they just want a good story.
I read a lot of YA myself.

If you’ve got your own answer to this question or a question of your own, please share!

For Real!

On Saturday, a man stopped into Beagle Books. "You're getting into bookbinding, right?" he asked. I replied, with complete calm (of course), that I am. He had planned to take a couple books over to Detroit Lakes and have David (my mentor) repair the books, but he waited too long. When he saw the article in the Nevis paper about my taking over the binding business, he decided to come on in. (YAY!!!!!!!) He gave me his name and phone number (while I commanded my hand: Don't shake, don't shake, don't shake), and said he would return in the next couple days with the books. When I stopped in at Beagle on Monday, there were two books in need of repair waiting for me! I was elated! Then I looked closer, one of the books, a dictionary, is five and one-half inches thick - HOLY &*!@! It must be an unabridged dictionary including slang, prefixes, and a few other things. But what the heck, why not start with a challenge, right? (But pray for me anyway, please. PLEASE).

Frustration

Yesterday I finally had friendly feelings towards the hot stamping press (whenever I used this machine at David’s, I dreaded it, the hot stamp press and I were NOT friends). My lettering didn’t come out perfect, but it wasn’t too bad. The tricky thing about this machine is that it’s hard to teach another person how it feels when you’re using it right. When David taught me, he showed me the basics: the on knob is here, turn it up to 8, wait for the temperature to reach 150 degrees, place your letters in like this, tighten here, place your fabric underneath the press like this, pull the handle down like so for this long. Then I’d do it and the letters would barely be legible on the fabric. “Well, hold it longer,” David said. I did, the letters came out fat and thick and unreadable. “Not so long”…. “a little pressure here…” and on and on. I realized it’s one of those things you just have to learn how it feels.
Then I burned my finger. No big deal, I ran my finger under cold water.
Then I worked on trimming a piece of lettered fabric. I cut the word in half. Rats. I found another piece of lettered fabric and trimmed that instead to my almost-satisfaction.
Finally, I was ready for the LAST step of a book I had done pretty much on my own from the start. I had begun the work at David’s, but like a child who has recently learned a skill and now turns her shoulder to her parent screaming, “I DO IT!”, I kept David at a distance as I worked. So it was time to put the text block in its new cover. I sprayed glue on the cover, set the text block’s spine on the cover’s spine and folded up the sides. The end papers bubbled. I tried again, and again, and again. I stomped around in my mind trying to figure out why I was remembering this step wrong. Then I turned out the lights and literally stomped out of the building, my eight year old in tow. We drove nearly two miles when I realized I had forgotten a box of books and a file folder I was planning to deliver to Sister Wolf Books. I turned around, headed back to Beagle Books. As I physically turned around, something turned around in my mind and I recalled EXACTLY what I’d done wrong. The spine doesn’t go in first! Duh! I was tempted to re-do the book as soon as I got to Beagle, but I waited until today.
Today, I cut the above-mentioned book out of the cover. I re-did it right this time, and what do you know, it looks a lot better! It’s not perfect, but it’s better than a book with bubbled end papers that I would never show another person. It seems every day I work down in the bindery, another piece slides into place. So sometimes I’ll burn myself, make a wrong cut, or just totally do something wrong. That’s ok. I’m sure David burned himself, made wrong cuts, and bungled things too.

"Go get more"

As I (we) have been unpacking the book bindery equipment from David’s and setting it up in Beagle, I’ve been on the lookout for a can of spray adhesive that David told me is ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL. I knew the brand name and knew the product had a two digit product number, but couldn’t quite remember the number. I realized no cans of spray adhesive had moved to Beagle. There is a tote of various glues, another for tapes, but no spray adhesive. I began to panic. I called my dad (what else is a 35 year old girl to do?), “There’s this spray adhesive I absolutely HAVE to have and I can’t find it anywhere and I wasn’t worried before that I didn’t remember the product number because I figured I would get an old can from David and then just replace it someday but I don’t have any from David and-” At this point, I was forced to breathe and my dad in his calm, I-have-a-PhD-in-Chemical-Engineering voice said, “Go get more.”
“But I don’t know the product number!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“You’ll figure it out.”
Oh.
Well, ok. So I called the local hardware store, found out they do carry spray adhesive, and I headed there to “figure it out.” As soon as I saw the can, I knew (it’s 77, for those of you if I don’t reveal it will go crazy). I bought my very own can of spray adhesive. I raced back to Beagle Books, down the stairs, and even though it wasn’t technically “bindery time”, I couldn’t wait, I just HAD to glue something (and no, I don’t have any sniffing addiction problems, but thanks for your concern). I grabbed a book that David had started work on and I had nearly finished. I set up a spray area, sprayed the outside cover, jammed the text block into it, and, well, it looked terrible. I stepped into another room, breathed in and out a few times. Slow down, I told myself. I re-entered the room with the spray adhesive, and carefully took the cover back off the book. I let myself flounder until I remembered the proper steps: trim the end papers, etc. I glanced at the list of bookbinder traits David had made me and my eye fell on Patience, then Courage – try something new, and most importantly: Planning – if this doesn’t work, then what? Ok, David’s with me. I know what I’m doing and if I don’t, I’ll try again until I get it right. I just need practice, and I just have to “go get more.”