Roseledge Books is open. Summer has started, fleece hoodies and blankies over the knees on the porch during inaugural wine not withstanding.
Fig. #21. The only Roseledge Books sign “before” Charlie fixed the winter stressed message on his way to Boston’s Logan Airport. The “after” sign is in place, but you’ll have to visit to see it because Charlie didn’t have time to take a picture.
And Roseledge Books, always in the forefront, now has a webcam. The webcam picture of the harbor from atop Paul Wellstone
(a biography by Bill Lofy)* on my desk at Roseledge Books is quite exciting.
Already a comment (okay, a complaint) from friend, Jerry:
“The picture on the webcam doesn’t move,” she noted.
No, it doesn’t. You have to refresh it every five seconds to get the next picture, a little like slow animation. Think of it as “relaxed animation” which is, to me, a particular joy of Maine. (But then I am so slow, I give new meaning to the verb “to turtle.”
“I see.”
——————–
*Bill Lohy’s Paul Wellstone is one of several books specially selected, requested, reserved, and now stacked for the webcam and for Roseledge Books customers (in this case for Bob with whom I miss Paul Wellstone) who may or may not be back this year. It is atop Ronald Blythe’s Akenfield
for Mary with whom I earlier loved Lillian Beckwith’s books about her years with the crofters on the Hebrides (e.g. The Sea for Breakfast). Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point
is next, a book for Elizabeth’s second-year-in-college gift after James Watson’s The Double Helix
last year, and finally Suzanne Stremper Shea’s Shelf Life
, a book about bookstores for the group that comes each summer and asks for a Roseledge Books withdrawal read. (By Chapter 9, Sheridan Hay’s The Secret of Lost Things
became more an English major’s novel than a bookstore read.) I love thinking about the readers that special request shelves suggest are near.
