Journal of a Sabbatical

December 22, 2000

oldies marketplace

Quote of the day: "Your third basset hound arrived just in time. It's going to be really cold tonight - a three dog night." - me

Today's Reading:

Tall Trees and Far Horizons by Virginia Eifert

Winter from the Journal of Henry David Thoreau edited by H.G.O. Blake

The Zen Works of Stonehouse translated by Red Pine

After yesterday's intense relating, today was weirdly solitary. My major agenda item was to make sure I had enough Fowle's coffee for the weekend given that Nancy would be here too. So first thing this morning, I brewed a pot of coffee and assessed how much was left. Enough for 4 cups. Not enough for the long holiday weekend. This meant an expedition to Newburyport. Even though I could order Fowle's coffee over the Internet, I'd worry that it wouldn't be here by tomorrow and besides that it's an excuse to go to Newburyport, which has many attractions besides fabulous coffee.

Despite the fact that I've got presents for the wild beasts, La Madre, Nancy, and the brother I drew in the secret Santa lottery, I am not done with the Christmas shopping. Well, even if I were done with the Christmas shopping, I'd still feel like I should be shopping. It's a thing that overtakes me right before the holidays, this idea that everyone in the world is having a great time shopping to the merry sounds of carolers and Salvation Army bell ringers under gently falling snow and I'm cowering in my room feeling overwhelmed and therefore I should do something about this and join the happy throngs.

The happy throngs were not at Oldies Marketplace however. I thought I might find some things for various people who will get their gifts from me after Christmas (you know who you are) and maybe some extra things for La Madre or the kids or even myself. This is after all the place where I found the cup and saucer set with "actual fireplace of Snowbound" on it.

Oldies Marketplace is the coldest place on earth, or at least in my bioregion. It's a cavernous warehouse with no heat and no windows to let in sun to maybe warm it up a little (speaking of dark). The front door is huge and wide open like a garage door. So today, which is shaping up to have a three dog night, was maybe not the day for an extended browse. But there's so much interesting junk in there from every conceivable period in New England history. Like a museum of daily life and lowbrow tastes. Better than a museum.

I passed on an autographed portrait of John Greenleaf Whittier to go with my "actual fireplace of Snowbound" cup and saucer because it looked like the signature was a reproduction. Did they do that in the 19th century?

The boxes of postcards beckoned me -ever on the alert for an airport I don't have in my collection. But, of all things, I found a postcard of the "famous Indian potters" of San Ildefonso pueblo from the 1930's. I can picture it in Mark's studio. Another postcard perfect for someone on my list turned up before the tip of my nose turned blue and my fingers ceased to function. Not a bad haul for somebody who hates to shop though.

No visit to Newburyport is complete with a visit to Olde Port Book Shop, which thankfully is much warmer than Oldies. First thing I did was inquire about the basset hound. Last time I was in the shop, bookstore man was on hold for the entire time I was there waiting for information about shipping a basset hound whose people were moving and couldn't take him with ... from California. Cross-country basset hound rescue. So the basset hound made it here and is settling in with his other two basset hounds. What, you thought it was going to live in the store with Domino?

I was browsing the bird books downstairs - nothing new and nothing I need to have - when Domino came and found me. She greeted me with something that sounds like "eck, eck" and made like I should follow her to the other room where her rocking chair is. I sat down for her to climb onto me and petted her a bit before resuming browsing with her following me. Domino's favorite room contains the children's books as well as the John Marquand and W.H. Hudson novels I always look at. Not that Andrea likes any of the children's classics ... However, just recently she was telling me how she was rereading The Hobbit and how she loves Tolkein but found The Silmarillion boring. So when I spotted a first edition of The Adventures of Tom Bombadil on the shelf it fairly shrieked "buy me for Andrea, buy me for Andrea". So I did. And two bookmarks picturing Domino, a legend in her own time. Not a bad haul for somebody who hates to shop though.

Back at home, email from Hungary solves the mystery of the missing slides so I drop that from the list of worries in the upper left hand corner of my brain and turn my thoughts toward wrapping paper and twine.