Dog Train to the Rescue

No matter where a person chooses to live, there are pros and cons to that place. For our family, one of the drawbacks to living in the north woods is driving our elementary-aged daughter, Megan, to a bus stop where she will be picked up at a reasonable time and endure a fairly short bus ride. We could plant her at the end of our driveway (even that is a ¼ mile), but she would be the first stop of the bus route and have a much longer ride. Since it’s hard enough getting Meg up at a reasonable time, there’s no way we’re opting for anything earlier. So, every school day morning, I drive her to the bus stop. On the way, we listen to an audio book of her choice. Today, however, we were in a pinch. We’ve listened to the last of the discs she received for Christmas and the audio we requested at the library hasn’t come in yet. That leaves us two options: (well, ok, three if you count sitting in silence – but for those of you who know Megan, you know that isn’t really an option) talking or listening to the radio. Talking in the morning for Megan and I is a bad idea. Megan is not a morning person and I am a morning person*. What is a morning person*, you ask? A morning person* is someone who is willing to get up early in the morning but only if no one talks to her. That leaves the radio. Here again, there is trouble. Megan likes country music (like her dad), and I like everything but country. (For the record, Alison Krauss is folk). Nonetheless, we turn on the radio and hope for the best. When the scan function stops on a country station, I vigorously shake my head no and Megan sighs. She presses the button again. Talking. Presses the button again. Talking. Talking. Talking. Finally, she hits on some music and it’s Blues Traveler! A band I love, yay! But that won’t be good enough, so I do some quick thinking and I tell her, “Hey, this is a band that’s on your Dog Train CD.” For those of you who don’t know, Sandra Boynton, a fabulous children’s author who mostly writes board books aimed at pre-schoolers has released four CD/books. Each has a different theme. The lyrics are pure, silly Boynton accompanied by a book with Boynton illustrations. The songs are performed by well-known musicians (from the Bacon Brothers to B.B. King to even the beloved Alison Krauss). It’s a brilliant combination because the songs and illustrations are silly and fun enough to capture kids attention, but the songs don’t drive adults crazy. Upon learning the band singing out of the radio was one known to Megan, she settled back and enjoyed (she probably would have enjoyed it more if I hadn’t sang along, but one can’t have everything in life). I couldn’t help sending a silent THANK YOU to Sandra Boynton – maybe I have a shot at influencing Megan’s music interests after all (doubtful, she’s been a daddy’s girl since the moment she entered the world). If nothing else, I can tuck a Blues Traveler CD in the car (or what the heck, the Sandra Boynton CDs) for the next time we’re in a pinch. Whew!

Finally!

Finally, finally, FINALLY! Yesterday was the day I got to go back to the Bindery. Where have I been? Selling books like crazy in December for the holidays. I'm not complaining, but I had been craving to get back to book binding. Yesterday morning for me was like a kid waking up on his/her birthday. Er, wait. Maybe not exactly. The intial wake-up was like every other morning, hit the snooze, burrow down deeper... until I realized, IT'S BACK TO THE BINDERY DAY!
Once I got my chance to return to the bindery, I felt like running in circles, touching everything (some things carefully, of course.... there's the guillotine...) I picked up the latest project I'd abandoned a month ago. Turned on the exhaust fan, turned on the hot stamping press, opened the curtain to the electrial room (which is where the guillotine is) & turned on the lights.
Ahhhhhhhh......home again :)

Pictorial Manual = Idiocy cured

I’m an idiot. Sigh. I am. I won’t go into the details, but I had forgotten a small but enormously important step in bookbinding. Thankfully, although embarrassingly, someone is looking out for me. I recently visited my local printer to pick up bookmarks. While there, the owner (who is rarely seen in the front) came out and exclaimed, “Oh! I have something for you!” She scurried off and then returned with a book. “I’d like you to have this,” she told me and handed me the book: Pictorial Manual of Bookbinding. It includes photographs and excellent illustrations of the steps in bookbinding. When I began to look through the book, I discovered instructions for the aforementioned forgotten step. The only thing more obvious would have been if David had dropped the book on my head. Oh, David – I was paying attention to your lessons, I promise. I stand with my head bowed, tail between my legs. I will get better, and you can bet I will never ever forget this step. Ever.

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!