Danglies, Fleas, and the Moody Purples

I hate giving in to the blahs, but I sure have them today. It’s eight-thirty in the morning and as dark as night outside with a steady rain falling since I got up at six. Yes, I actually lolled about this morning like I hadn’t a thing to do but order room service and eat chocolate for breakfast. I woke up at my usual five and read for an hour – Catherine Gildiner’s memoir Too Close to the Falls which manages to be both quirky and laugh-out-loud funny even as a dark thread weaves its ominous way beneath the bright, snappy surface. I need to take pictures of books today, but doubt I will because room light casts such a sickly yellow spell. Yet, oddly I just snapped two pictures of yesterday’s accessorization of the Magical Makeover of my office and for the first time ever captured the true light grey of the walls.

Check out those purple valances --  are they cool, or WHAT? They’re the exact color of the fabulous purple antique office chair that launched the whole project.  I love the fringe – cannot resist what Eric calls “danglies” whether they be threads, beads, tassels, or crystal pendants. If it dangles it’s a must-have. Even in my murky mood, they give me a delicious little zing of pleasure, as does the black and white photoghraphic art which is highlighted by the final touch of purple in an the otherwise monochromatic decorating scheme. Both of the photos were shot by the same photographer who offers color enhancement of your choice to key portions. I bought them on "feebay" already matted and then framed them myself with store-bought frames from Hobby Lobby, a store against which I hold a MAJOR grudge because they ran Pat Catan’s, (affectionately known as Pakistan's) a much better arts and crafts store, out of town. There’s still a Pat Catan’s in Akron, so I try to go there as much as possible, but in this case succumbed to an overwhelming need for instant gratification. I wish I could show you a view of the desk, chair, and rug with the valances, but I can’t yet because the old bookcase is still in here and the cabinets aren’t black yet, though their doors dry in the garage in ebon splendor even as we speak.

In addition to accessorization, yesterday involved an early morning trip in the dark drizzle to the Medina Flea Market. The outdoor vendors all stayed in bed apparently which was okay by me because I never buy anything from them anyway. There’s usually one book guy out there, but he and his prices reside in a parallel universe, so no big loss there. Inside, the scene was about as flat as a winter cornfield – very few dealers, ho-hum merchandise, and virtually no books or paper. I walked around in a dull stupor following Eric, so out of it I couldn’t have discerned a teacup from an anvil. That is, until I spied THE BOOK. Holy cow, there amongst a grouping of toys sat one of those ephemeral vintage children’s books made up of pieces-parts that rarely survive. Immediately, my eyeballs spun around in my head like pinwheels. How I know this is because the vendor discerned without my saying a word what it was I wanted. My first thought was, “gotta have it” and my second one was “he’s going to want a fortune.”

“Ten dollars?” he asked.

Ten dollars????? TEN DOLLARS!!!!! Oh, thank you book gods everywhere! I owe you a half dozen psalms. Maybe even with lute accompaniment.

Check this out and see why.

Not only are all eight miniature books present and accounted for tucked away safely in their boxcars, but so is the panoramic scene dubbed a “Colorama” that fold outs to make a large mural. Miracle of miracles, the latter's never in its 51 years felt the exuberant touch of  a tiny crayon-wielder.Truly, this is one very good thing. Run over to bookfinder and have a look at prices.

Meanwhile back in Medina a weak sun actually struggles to shine. Even band camp has commenced, late but lusty. Looks like it's time for the lackadaisical bookseller to finally get in motion.