[bib-lee-on, meaning "little book" in Greek, is a little shop in the historic town of Lewes, Delaware, where guests can find a thoughtful collection of curated contemporary and antiquarian books, unique greeting cards & stationery items, literary gifts, and original art.]
Dear Reader - When I created a facebook account for little biblion, I created a Twitter account, too. Now, I had no earthly clue what the heck I'd do with said account. So there it's been sitting, gathering a few kind "followers," who've had nothing to follow!
But then an idea dawned: We get fun books in from time to time, and I can use Twitter to let the virtual universe know about them. So here I am in the wake of my first Twitter posting (sorry, I just can't bring myself to call it a "tweet"), feeling all a'twitter myself:
(Dear Reader, it's worth noting that I posted for the first time a day or so ago - and I started this blog then, too, but I ran into problems with the illustrative pictures that I took on my darn iPhone . . . oh, and we had a little kitty cat incident that I'll tell you about later. Ah well!)
The books that I wrote my 140 characters about yesterday were from the estate of our friend, Frank Sanna. Frank was the kindest of souls. He fought in WWII and was one of the many who made good use of the GI Bill upon his return. He learned to sew - expertly. And as the years progressed, Frank constantly found ways to use his extraordinary skill to serve and to give back to others.
Beyond his family and the love of his life, Donald, Frank's great love was movies. And when Donald brought Frank's books in, he told me how Frank and his friends would pour over their reference books for hours, comparing notes and sharing stories about the films that they loved. It's been a joy to watch others get a kick out of his books, too.
Thank you, Frank - thank you, Donald. Tweetlee-deet to you! - Jenny
P.S. And can you find what film this tune's been in?
P.S.S. If you wanna see the books we're posting about we're @BiblionBooks (or at least I think that's how we're supposed to say it!).
Dear Reader - Okay, I confess that I let myself get totally daunted by the technical issues with my little blog, and I didn't have any girl-starting-new-business energy to spare for taking on the little bytes that were messin' with my mojo. I have now taken the somewhat drastic step of deleting everything I'd attempted to draft, in the hope that clearing the decks'll be the ticket to erradicating whatever it was that kept crashing my doggone blog!
So here's what we've missed sharing while we've been in the midst. . .
1. The press has come to visit - multiple times. Henry Evans from theCape Gazettewrote a stellar introductory article about us, and then followed up with a great article about the Royal Hoopla here at the shop:
Henry's awesome - a compelling writer and a truly fun, funny, intelligent, and interesting person to boot! He found us with the help of Lewes's leading historian, Hazel Brittingham:
Hazel and Henry are worthy of blog postings of their own. Hazel knows everyone and everything about Lewes. She kindly stopped in one day to bring me the Historical Society's writeup on our building, and she loved the shop so much that she asked Henry to do a story about us.
Part of what connects here to biblion is the building itself, since she and her husband owned the little restaurant called Britt's back in the 50s that we chatted about in January. Her ties to the place even pre-date that experience, quite literally, as her date to her prom was one of the Coast Guard fellows who ate in the commissary housed in our shop during the war. Henry came and ended up sticking around for a couple hours on his first visit, chatting with me for a bit and then losing himself in biblion's cards (he's since been back to check out the books, too).
We also got a visit fromDelaware Today, who featured us in their "what's new at the beach" edition (which was super nice!). Keith Mosher, their photographer (and a compelling blogger himself), hung out with us for a couple hours, too - though his time was all focused on his art:
Keith's picture that DT ended up featuring had delicious color, gorgeous line, light, and composition:
Their photographer, Kirsten Beckerman, and Senior Editor Laura Wexler had a blast with us, getting some great shots and picking out a couple cards. I haven't gotten to see the magazine, yet, but it was fun to see us featured on their home page!
2. We've added to our biblion family, bringing on Grace and Zac and Linda, allowing us to expand our hours to 10 to 9 daily for the summer season - yippee! The evening crowds have really been fun, sometimes keeping us here 'till closer to 10 with their browsing and reading and giggling at our shelves. We love that. Truly, dear Reader, it is beyond gratifying to see individual after individual have a meaningful experience here - it's nice to know that it wasn't just some passing magic that first weekend, but a true reflection of what little biblion has turned out to be.
3. And our final, very special addition to the biblion family is our shop dog, Nellie. Here's a picture of her with her breeder (one of the few pics that shows her kind eyes):
Nellie was originally pegged to be a show dog for her breeder, Candace Kane of Besitos Havanese; but as Nellie matured, it turned out that her eyes were not dark enough for the breed standard and her front legs bowed slightly, so she was free to come and be with us! Hooray for us!
We really wanted a shop dog, and we'd originally intended to rescue one - but then we thought of our guests with allergies and how tiny our shop is, and we decided that we really had to go for one of the non-shedding, hypoallergenic breeds. Having always lived with big dogs, I figured we'd get a big dog - but all of the non-shedding options needed a lot more exercise than we booksellers could reliably provide.
Then we started to get visits from other Havanese (named for Havana, reflecting their Cuban origins, where they were originally bred to herd chickens - yes, Nellie is a herding dog - a fact which proved quite helpful to Miss C when one of those middle school mean-girl-wanna-bes tried to diss on Nellie by calling her a mere lap dog - to which Miss C was able to reply, "No! She's a herding dog!"), and, man, were they awesome little dogs. Very mellow, very obedient, very connected to their families. And Nellie has proven to be the same. She's a super shop dog, and I'm sure that I'll end up indulging in book dog stories for you from time to time!
Well, I've blathered on here for quite awhile, and I've had NO ghosts in the machine! Looks like we're back in the blogging saddle, dear Reader!
And here's a little Gene Autry to celebrate:
And a little Steven Tyler for the joy of stark contrast:
Dear Reader - As you may remember from my In Search Of . . . post, we'd been on the lookout for somebody fun to speak at biblion, adding a few juicy historical bits to the royal wedding hoopla in Lewes this coming Friday (I, personally, dear Reader don't feel any deep connection to the royal wedding, but I'm all in when there's hoopla to be had - and throw in a dash of whimsy, and I'm over the moon). Despite the kind efforts of my friends and my own steady footwork, we were getting nowhere with finding a candidate. And while there was part of my little brain that had this sneaking suspicion that it'd all work out in the end, I began working to find other ways for little biblion to contribute to the festivities:
I was leaning on the counter at the Rehoboth Beach post office on Tuesday, watching Miss C fill out her passport application with her dad (they're taking a trip to Venice this summer - how cool is that?), when my friend Peggy (who'd been the most dogged in trying to come up with a speaker for us) sent me this text: "Idea!! Royal wedding fun for biblion!"
My "do tell" reply got a call back, and Peggy proceeded to tell me her awesome idea of having a card for Lewes to sign at biblion that we can then send to Kate & William. How perfect was that? I made a couple of adjustments (made it a "Book of Best Wishes" to sign rather than a big card and am adding a small, hand-lettered card with best wishes from the people of Lewes with a lovely print of an original painting by Lewes artist Jean Doran). We put the book out late yesterday, and we'll keep it up 'till it's filled over the next few days.
But the story doesn't end there! A few hours later that same day, Peg texted again: "Gasp! A possible speaker for you. The mother of an acquaintance - look at today's News Journal local/leisure section. No kidding. The woman is going to be in Lewes for the great event." Sure enough, I went to the News Journal's website, and there she was, replete with video!
Turns out that Margaret's daughter Sarah is a friend of Peggy's from the lawyerly side of her life. The three of us connected on a conference call Wednesday morning to see if this could work with schedules, etc., and then I had a chance to chat with Margaret for a bit. She was lovely (. . . and fun . . . and funny!), and we agreed that a wedding-toast-fueled, Noontime casual conversation in our little shop was just the ticket to round out her royal wedding visit to Lewes.
So come and join us, dear Reader, for a wee bit of Royal Whimsy in the midst of Lewes' Hoopla!
We're gathering at Noon on Friday for a wedding toast and a casual conversation with Margaret Caufield. Margaret was born in Nottinghamshire and moved to the United States in 1967. She has been a serious collector of royal memorabilia for 40-odd years and has a wealth of juicy bits and stories to share about the royals and their history. As you well know, biblion is tiny, so come early to be part of the fun!
And even if you can't make it for Margaret, be sure to sign the Book of Best Wishes, which we'll send as a gift from the people of Lewes to the happy couple!
Vive la Hoopla! - Jen
P.S. And here's a reprise of King Floyd that's perfection for the occasion:
Dear Reader - I apologize. I've been a bad blogger - or non-blogger, as the case may be.
I confess that I have been in a bit of a funk. It's not that things haven't been fabulous - they have. Little biblion is happy as a clam. We had our grand-ish opening on April Fool's Day, when Miss C and I didn't cut the ribbon (the Lewes CofC are very good stewards of their resources!):
(Though our Beneficent Landlord, Mr. Ted [just left of me], who also serves on Lewes' City Council, let Miss C cut a sliver off the end with the gianormous scissors.)
The after-party turned out lovely, thanks to the amazing talents of my friends Lorraine and Gary Papp, former pastry and executive chefs of the Buttery, who chose to simplify their lives and start a catering firm called the Essential Chef and Lorraine's delectable cake-baking enterprise, Beach Baker Cakes. Here's a video of Gary from his other life, teaching kids (dig the groovy tunage):
I dunno what Miss C and I would have done without their help. Lorraine was a wonder, making our tiny shop into a gorgeous feast for all of the kind-hearted friends who showed up, despite my funk-driven (I'll get back to that, I promise!) belated invitations! Our dear friend Preston (who's standing right behind us in the Chamber photo) was a blessing as our tireless bartender, and our friends Tim and Ingrid helped us wrap it all up at the end.
There were some amazing treats from our neighbors, Cafe Azafran (who provided some to-die-for tapas), R&L Liquor (who provided the yummy Cava and a tasty Malbec), and Lewes Bake Shop (who provided Miss C's favorite lemon bars). Amy of the latter is featured in this fun video promoing the town's upcoming celebration of the Royal Wedding (I'm sorry, dear Reader, but those who know these folks will find this beyond funny - Go Karen! Our new Queen Mother!):
The crowning jewel still shines today, in Mayumi's lovely floral arrangement:
The shop is now open seven days a week, thanks to the help of our friend Ingrid, who used to manage a bookstore and has very generously agreed to help us out on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. The only shot of Ingrid that I have is in profile, as she and her husband, Tim, check our friend Dean in at Taste the Fruit of the Vine last September (Ingrid's an amazing person and a perfect fit with biblion's vibe - we're so happy that she's able to hang with us a bit!):
As I said, happy as a clam.
So back to that funk.
I knew this was coming, but I've kept trying to turn to the side in the hopes of deflecting its impact a bit. But then my friends Britt and Cliff walked into the shop, and the full force came rushing back as I knew there were others in the world for whom this date would have a certain, heavy impossibility to it.
You see, dear Reader, our dear Caroline died just a year ago on this day (she was Britt's mother and Cliff's wife). Caroline had beaten the crap outta cancer two times in a row and had thrown in an impressive fight with heart disease in the midst, but the cancer caught up with her a couple of years ago, coming back with a vengeance just before her 70th birthday:
It was one of those it-kinda-feels-like-it-might-be-the-last-one moments, and in the spirit of keeping it as fun as we darn-well could, our friend Lynda threw a tea party for her (I, of course, brought the hats):
Then Miss C and I hit the streets in Reho, getting birthday wishes from the masses. Here's a sampling:
It was awesomely fun, but, looking back on it, I feel so sad: while I'd hoped against hope that it wasn't true, Caroline never made it to 71.
Caroline and I fell in love in choir at St. Peter's. We found each other in the alto section and found kindred spirits with equally twisted senses of humor. We then found ourselves giggling in the corners of the ECW (Episcopal Church Women) meetings, and then in our EfM (Education for Ministry) seminar.
I didn't have to grow to love Caroline, I loved her instantly, and I treasured her friendship among the favorites of my life. What made it special was the stunning openness and honesty that we shared - something about the way we resonated together made it okay to share some of the deepest aspects of our selves (particularly our failures and shortcomings) with ease. We were able to be share the fullness of our humanity. And having lost my mom when I was in my 20s, my friendship with Caroline was a true gift. I always felt deeply loved, understood, and appreciated.
Which, I suppose, is why I felt so grateful and honored when she asked for my help last winter/spring as she moved toward death. I'm not sure if I was able to do much, ultimately, but I know that I was able to be there with her - and I know that that was good - for her and for her husband and family. Remembering those days tonight - the rawness of it, the stunning beauty, the tenderness of so many relationships drawing to a close - I am overcome. I miss her terribly, dear Reader.
So here's to Caroline. I went and bought a bottle of the last glass of wine we shared, a nice Italian Prosecco, and I poured myself a glass and raised it as I sat down to write to you. I'm certain that she's raising one with us:
Rest in peace, my beautiful friend. - (a now de-funkified) Jenny
Dear Reader - I had a guest stop in yesterday who proclaimed "rare finds!" upon his entry. I laughed and said, "that's my excuse to carry anything that strikes my fancy!" To which he replied, "It's actually a great umbrella," supplying the necessary hand gestures to encompass the assemblage of biblion's contents.
What he didn't know was that our newest addition was sitting in the yet-to-be-opened cartons at his feet. And in the words of Sesame Street, it was a "one of these things is not like the others" kinda item.
It all came about at a Taste the Fruit of the Vine meeting a month or so back. Libby and Sue and Sue all told me how they were at a loss for these awesome dripless, smokeless candles that Wildflowers (who closed their doors in January) used to carry. They joked, saying "You can carry those, Jen!" Which, of course, seemed a little goofy for a bookstore; but, of course, we're not your usual bookstore, a la that "rare finds" gig.
So I looked around the shop in my little mind and realized that we had the perfect spot to tuck them in: high up on some bookshelves that're inaccessible for anything else. Then I told the ladies that I'd be happy to carry them, so that they wouldn't have to drive down to The Wooden Indian in Reho (which still has the best selection for various colors, etc. in the area) or to hit the Internet.
I ordered a few different neutral and Spring-ish colors in the 10" variety, thinkin' they'd be sorta fun for Easter, etc. But the lion's share of what I got were 10" and 12" white and off-white, 'cause we kinda dig the classic here at biblion.
And speaking of classic, I was a little thrown when I was perusing the Colonial Candles website to see a "sock monkey" link; but, yes, the same Midwestern folks who make these awesome candles also sell hand-knit sock monkeys. Go figure.
Rare find? Prob'ly not really, but I don't care, they're just too darn cute:
I mean, look at him: he's already sporting his biblion colors! I'll double-check my friends down at Kids' Ketch (our stellar local toy store, which deserves a blog post of its own), just to make sure that it's not an item they already carry. If not, we're gettin' a couple the next time we order up some candles.
Hurry up Libby, Sue, and Sue! Come get some of these candles so we can get us some monkeys!
And to tide us over 'till the monkeys arrive, let's enjoy Miss C's favorite track from the awesome anthological Los Lobos 2-disc set, Just a Band from East L.A., I Wanna Be Just Like You:
Blissfully burnin' those pretty candles at both ends! - Jenny
Dear Reader - Miss C (who has hereby expressed her displeasure at being known in this way in Blogland, despite the fact that I call her Miss C_____ in corporeal life every single day [she told me on the way to school the other day that she'd prefer to be known as "Steak" - though she's chosen a single, non-meat-related image to be her signature here]) has decided that she's going to contribute some thoughts about books from time to time. Enjoy! - Jen
Hey! I’m ‘Miss C’ (my mother chose it without my consent : ( ) and from now on I will be writing reviews of books in the preteen-young adult area. For my first review, I will be writing about The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.
This book could be described as dystopian, drama, action, romance, fantasyish, sci-fi, and probably a lot of other things, but personally I think it’s one of the most amazing fantasy-like books that I have ever read. It all starts with Katniss, living in her minuscule house in the coal-black district of 12 in Panem, the future of America.
If you have been born in the poor District 12, then you most likely won’t get out by the time you die, but Katniss breaks free when she takes her younger sister's place in a “game” organized by the government, where one boy and one girl from twelve to eighteen from each district (Districts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12) are thrown into an arena where they have to fight for their lives. Last one standing wins.
Once Katniss enters the capitol (the center of Panem, where all the rich people live), she is thrown into a whirlwind of political strife, heavily muscled teens with swords and spears, and a love interest, since apparently every teen book needs some complication involving love.
This story is good for both boys and girls, and can be introduced at any age, really, though I suggest not before the age of nine, but it also depends on what you, or you child, or your grandchild, like in a book. I guess this wasn’t really a review; but a person can’t really review a book and tell someone about it, unless that someone is themselves, because everyone has different tastes in books, so it would be hard for a book to appeal to every single person, so that’s my take on it.
The song that girl sings below is a song that Katniss sings to a friend of hers while said friend is dying from a spear in the stomach. It’s not really sung by Katniss, though, because Katniss isn’t real, and they haven’t made a movie…yet.
Dear Reader - My heavens, it's been a roller-coaster of a week here at Casa J & C. We have been working our little fingers to the nubbins, and, thanks be to God, our friends have been helping, big-time, along the way!
Here's some of what's been happening . . .
We've been unpacking books. Books like these:
and . . .
and . . .
and . . .
and . . .
And . . . our lady friends have been helping us each day. Friends like Margaret, who, when dutifully alphabetizing the biography section, cried out, "Oh my gosh! This is my absolute favorite book of all time! I don't know about his politics, but I totally love the man . . . and I loaned mine to someone years ago, and I've never been able to remember who - and I've never been able to find another copy 'till now!" This, dear Reader, is what I've been waiting for all these months - moments like these when the little books that've found me find the new homes where they're really meant to live. I was in absolute heaven as Margaret passed over her $5 for Airborn, our first book sale:
While every one of us has done our own fair share of label removal, returning the books to their un-besmirched state, Ms. Sue has been the Goddess of Goo Gone:
(See that water bottle, dear reader? That water bottle was later used by Libby to put out a little fire [not started by us] on Second Street - the crew at biblion is so darn industrious.)
And speaking of Libby . . . Libby has worked wonders with the blue seat cushions on those lovely Duncan and Phyfe chairs:
(What the heck happened on this one, I wonder . . .)
I went to Dreamweaver fabrics at the Midway shopping center, and they couldn't have been more helpful and lovely. They assisted me in picking out a few different fabric choices for the chairs, pointing me in the direction of this upholstery fabric in particular (which was super cool, since it'd been a discontinued model by the manufacturer that they'd picked up at a discount that they likewise passed generously on to their customers):
Angie's daughter (whose name I can't recall in the moment) and Beth helped me. When I went back to make my final selection after looking at the fabric at our shop, Beth cut it for me and then helped me determine if I needed to get new padding:
She cut away the decades-old blue fabric to see that I had near-perfect, high-quality cotton batting underneath. I left their shop with my gorgeous upholstery fabric and some instruction on how to proceed with the installation.
Well, I tried doing one with the help of my friend Judy. The results were just fine (we were actually pretty doggone proud of ourselves, Reader), but nothing like what happened when Libby up and decided to grab this ball. These old, once tired, chairs now look blissfully happy and absolutely stunning:
Finally, my friend Denise was the Book Whisperer. Her brilliant practicality and keen aesthetic could take any shelf of books and make sense of it. I turned my back for half an hour or so, helping the birthday cards find their new home, and when I came back around, she'd taken a problem with the fiction and biography sections and completely resolved it, tout sweet:
Oh, and speaking of cards, I'd be remiss if I didn't, once again, acknowledge the help of one of my gentlemen friends as well. Mr. Phil helped my assemble the Borealis card rack from Maine. One of the primary supports needed a little repair, so he did that, and then we tag-teamed the Lucite racks. Here's the result:
There's just one more card line that's on its way to us, but the rest have found their homes. The birthday cards are ready to celebrate:
The special occasions are spinning at the front of the store:
The Sigmund and all his buddies are ready for guests to choose them and then choose how to greet them with their unique little stickers (could there be a better Mother's Day card?):
And the letter-pressed bellamuse cards have joined Jonathan Wright on the rack:
Folks keep asking "when," and I keep chuckling away. I dunno, Reader, I figure it could be any day now, but I've realized that I'm not going to know when it's time 'till it's time (just call me the Queen o' Intuition). I told my lady friends that we're gonna do a little burlesque routine as our means to a soft opening. We're gonna slowly peel away bits of that paper, sending a titillating little mixed signal to our passersby, 'till we eventually get it all off.
If you're wandering by and the papers peeling and the lights are on, be brave, come knock at the door - we'll welcome you in! - Jenny
