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kip_w.
After Cathy and Sarah were gone, I saw that Sarah had left her sleep toy -- the penguin she has chosen to be her companion during nap times at school. There were also books to return to the library, so I gathered them up and went out. 3/4 of the way to Sarah's school, I realized I'd also forgotten the toy, so I cursed my way home, picked it up, and brought it to her. She was delighted to see me in the middle of the day, and there was much hugging.
On my way away from there, I saw that the Never Open Record Store had an OPEN sign on the front door. In all my time here, I've never found the place open, so I turned back, parked, and went in. It was even more squalid inside than it had looked through the windows, partly because the owner was packing everything up to move. I wandered through empty shelves, observing the wretched condition of LP sleeves and the delusion -- not just once, but over and over -- that three-disk sets of anything are worth $20. On the way out, I saw a box of sheet music and started poking through it. "Those aren't for sale individually," he said, "Only the whole box." "Well, how much does the whole box cost, then?" He cogitated. "Fifty dollars." I stopped looking. I'll go see his new location, when he's settled in.
I also passed a used-book store that somebody had said was small but good. It wasn't open this time, either, but they had at least posted some hours on the door so I could try and guess at a time when I might find somebody in. Then I took the books to the Westfield library (books from our library can be brought back there) and bought some used books for Sarah at a dime each. On the way home, I got groceries.
This evening, Cathy was looking for something for supper. I pointed out my new purchases. When Sarah heard the word "pierogies," she was all for pierogies, so I made pierogies for everybody. A few minutes later, I was transferring laundry to the dryer. Sarah came back to see -- the sound of something happening in the laundry room draws her like a special whistle for kids.
"Can you make me some popped-up popcorn?" she asked, meaning microwave popcorn. "Honey, we just ate. Maybe later." "How about in ten minutes?" I continued delaying. "How about half an hour from now?" "How about ten hours?" I repeated the half hour offer. Sarah now had a definite promise from me to consider making popcorn at 7:00. I heard her in the living room asking Cathy how long a half hour was.
.
After Cathy and Sarah were gone, I saw that Sarah had left her sleep toy -- the penguin she has chosen to be her companion during nap times at school. There were also books to return to the library, so I gathered them up and went out. 3/4 of the way to Sarah's school, I realized I'd also forgotten the toy, so I cursed my way home, picked it up, and brought it to her. She was delighted to see me in the middle of the day, and there was much hugging.
On my way away from there, I saw that the Never Open Record Store had an OPEN sign on the front door. In all my time here, I've never found the place open, so I turned back, parked, and went in. It was even more squalid inside than it had looked through the windows, partly because the owner was packing everything up to move. I wandered through empty shelves, observing the wretched condition of LP sleeves and the delusion -- not just once, but over and over -- that three-disk sets of anything are worth $20. On the way out, I saw a box of sheet music and started poking through it. "Those aren't for sale individually," he said, "Only the whole box." "Well, how much does the whole box cost, then?" He cogitated. "Fifty dollars." I stopped looking. I'll go see his new location, when he's settled in.
I also passed a used-book store that somebody had said was small but good. It wasn't open this time, either, but they had at least posted some hours on the door so I could try and guess at a time when I might find somebody in. Then I took the books to the Westfield library (books from our library can be brought back there) and bought some used books for Sarah at a dime each. On the way home, I got groceries.
This evening, Cathy was looking for something for supper. I pointed out my new purchases. When Sarah heard the word "pierogies," she was all for pierogies, so I made pierogies for everybody. A few minutes later, I was transferring laundry to the dryer. Sarah came back to see -- the sound of something happening in the laundry room draws her like a special whistle for kids.
"Can you make me some popped-up popcorn?" she asked, meaning microwave popcorn. "Honey, we just ate. Maybe later." "How about in ten minutes?" I continued delaying. "How about half an hour from now?" "How about ten hours?" I repeated the half hour offer. Sarah now had a definite promise from me to consider making popcorn at 7:00. I heard her in the living room asking Cathy how long a half hour was.
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