Author, Wife, Busy Mom, A Woman after God's Heart.

Tag: readlocal

To Audio, or Not to Audio: That is the Question – Courtesy of Hometown Reads

I recently had the opportunity to be a guest blogger for Hometown Reads. “… a community dedicated to serving local authors across the country, by helping them connect with readers in their hometown through what we call the Read Local movement. Their site is the first of its kind to organize authors by local community, a design that is intended to facilitate both networking for authors and exposure/connection to more readers…”

“A version of this post originally ran on the Hometown Authors site on June 13th, 2017.”

The Nature of Life

“The Chronicles of Esther and Mel.”

Today, I met my new neighbor. It was by accident. Hidden behind a bush and sitting on top of red mulch, I noticed a female duck. I must have startled her as I strode past because her feathers fluffed up and she squawked, or quacked. I couldn’t tell the difference, for I too, was taken by surprise, and jumped back.

We acknowledged each other and politely said our hellos. I proceeded to tip-toe on by, when she called after me to come back and sit with her awhile.

I hesitated. This is weird. What if she bites me? But, then I obliged and sat down about a foot away, on one of the retaining wall’s stone pavers. Didn’t want to crowd her.

It was windy and warm out, so I brushed aside the bangs from my eyes. I could smell the White Callery Pear Blossoms, and rain. It would rain later.

At first we just sat there, gazing at one another. We were strangers of course, and trying to figure out what to talk about.

It was awkward, but not really. I turned my attention to my feet. I adjusted the toe strap of the right flip-flop and then began to scrutinize the pink color on my toe nails, when she spoke.

“Thank you for joining me. I haven’t had an opportunity for any ‘grown-up’ conversation, in well…quite some time. You see, I’m expecting the hatching of five little ducklings, soon.” She chuckled. “It kind of gets lonely out here, if you know what I mean.”

I smiled. “Well, congratulations are definitely in order. This is exciting news.”

She ruffled her feathers. “I appreciate it. Oh, I’m Esther, by the way.”

“I’m Chiara.”

I looked around my property, having strolled around it often, and wondered. “How long have you been here?”

“A few weeks.”

“Hmm…Never seen you before. You camouflage pretty good.”

Esther quaked. “Ah…that’s my job.”

We talked some more. She was originally from Ohio, but her “duck” husband, Mel, was born in Chicago. They met down south and together, migrated back here in December. They married, and well, the rest is history.

I told her about my daughters, but Esther already knew about them; having seen the girls running around the backyard.

She shook her head in disgust. “Your children are loud and rambunctious.”

I apologized, embarrassed for my wild little kids. Esther quacked again, admitting she was only kidding.

We became quiet again, and I went back to studying my toes. Gosh, I have to get my toes done soon.

Esther spoke up. “Ah…silence is golden.”

I snorted. “Get your rest because it won’t be quiet for long.”

She sighed. “You’re right.”

“In fact,” I continued, “do all the sleeping now because once those little ducklings are out, forget about ever sleeping.”

Esther quacked. “I remember the good ol’ days of freedom.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. Freedom, huh? It’s so long ago. But then I gestured with my hand. “It’s all worth it. Bringing life into the world.”

“I’m scared,” she revealed.

I shrugged. “I understand. I’m scared every single day too. There are no guarantees in life. You do your best in protecting, and loving and feeding your children. The rest is up to God.”

Esther turned away. I could tell she was emotional.

She looked back at me. “I’m sorry. My hormones are out of whack.”

I laughed. A duck having hormone issues. “Having ducklings will do that to you.”

We giggled.

I then wondered about something else. “Do you get up? Walk around? You know, stretch, and go to the bathroom?”

Esther fluffed her feathers. “Are you kidding? Of course. My butt feels like a rock after sitting here all day long, not to mention my legs are so stiff.”

I nodded. “That’s good. What about the eggs? Are they okay being left alone?”

She stretched her neck. “Mel comes and guards the nest while I go and do my personal affairs, if you know what I mean?”

I grinned. Yes, private time is important.

Silence fell upon us again, and I was getting antsy. My own butt was hurting from sitting on the retaining wall.

Esther yawned. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, it’ time for a nap.”

Got it. So, I stood up.

She quaked. “I liked our conversation.”

I waved. “Me too.”

“Hope to see you soon. Please, stop by again.”

I said my goodbye, and strutted away.

The conversation left my heart filled. Filled in such a way one feels after having enjoyed the company of someone else. Content. Did I really just talk to a duck?

I realized fiction or not, one point was true. We were different, very different. Esther was a duck, an animal, and I was a human. However, we held a common bond—motherhood.

In the daily grind of managing a home, nourishing the young, handling of the homework duty, and being a referee, comes the rewards of nurturing life and sharing wisdom with the ones you love.

Raising children is one of the hardest duties of a woman’s life. Sometimes, we too, need a good conversation with another being.

That evening, I peeked out my window and saw Mel standing guard. Esther had gone out to do her duties.

I snickered. “Good Mel. Take care of your bride, buddy.”

And, that’s the nature of life.

#motherhood #raisingkids #momconversation #momsdayout #natureoflife #amwriting #readlocal

“Mom and Pop” Bookstores – Rare Gems

I almost passed it up driving south on Oak toward downtown Bartlett. Turning back, I pulled onto a blacktop drive and parked in front of the Bartlett Coin Shop.

The Booklady’s Book Attic was situated on the corner of a house which was also occupied by a women’s fashion boutique, Little Shop on Oak.

At the entrance, I hesitated a bit before turning the knob. You see, I’m a sucker for bookstores and even though I couldn’t resist going in, there was this exciting apprehension surging through my body of discovering the unknown behind the steel-framed door.

When I pulled open the door, a long, brown staircase greeted me. To the right, stood a black rolling cart with numerous books, all organized by height. A colorful sign announced that the books were $1.00 each. On my left, there was a bronze stand with three rows of books. These were the free copies.


 

 

 

I placed my booted shoe on the first step. It creaked as I began my ascent up the stairs. The walls were painted an egg-shell white, and brightly colored sticky notes of testimonials and customer signatures, provided a warm accent in the vestibule.

At the first landing, hand-crafted fishing signs hung from the wall. And, when I reached the top floor, a small, dark brown and beige-topped wooden desk stood in front of crowded shelves of books, toy figurines, and store advertisements.

The surroundings felt familiar and homey to me. Having worked at a Barnes and Noble bookstore, the smell of wood, leather, and cardboard boxes filled my senses. A radio played light rock music in the background.

My heart began to beat with excitement. This was my territory. Books, books, and books.

A memory suddenly materialized in my mind. It was the summer of 2002, and my husband and I had taken a long weekend vacation to San Francisco. While exploring Fisherman’s Wharf, we ended up walking onto Columbus Ave. to experience the many Italian restaurants and sit “al fresco” for a double-shot of espresso. Dizzy from people-watching, we continued our trek further up Columbus where we happened to stumble upon a bookstore called City Lights Booksellers & Publishers.

Strolling into the retailer, it was as if I had been transported to another time period—a very different time. This bookstore has been a literary meeting place since 1953. City Lights is a landmark general bookstore, internationally known for its expert selection of books and for its commitment to free intellectual inquiry.

I later researched City Lights. It was founded by poet/author, Laurence Ferlinghetti and Peter D. Martin (who left two years later). Mr. Ferlinghetti is the author of many works, including, poetry, translations, fiction, theatre, art criticism, and film narration, but his most famous written work was “A Coney Island of the Mind”—a collection of poetry published in 1958.

City Lights also became a famous hangout for many authors but especially Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and William S. Burroughs who frequented the establishment and started what became the “Beat Generation”. City Lights has also been named as one of the top ten independent bookstores in America.

The floors were worn and uneven, the air was dusty and I must have sneezed at least twenty times, but the place was filled with the most eccentric/eclectic books I have ever thumbed through. I shivered with pleasure.

Ah yes, when I close my eyes, I can still picture the dust particles dancing in the air.

But, I digress. Back at the Booklady’s Book Attic, my eyes glanced about, taking in this little book store in what resembled an oversized attic, hence the name.


 

 

 

There was so much to see, I didn’t know where to look first. And, I have to admit, I was the experiencing the same exhilaration of City Lights—beating heart and sweaty palms, and mind you, I hadn’t even browsed any of the books.

The cluttered hallway beckoned me. There were stacks of books: books on the floor, books in boxes, and books in different color bags.

The Proprietor, Ms. Pam, enthusiastically greeted me. We got to chatting. I told her about my published books. Pam is also a great supporter of all local writers. Thank you, Pam!

 

 

Here we are pictured together…

She’s been at this location for about two years. Previously, this space was formerly occupied by accountants, contractors, a flooring business, and meeting room rentals. However, prior to the various businesses, this property has had some history of its own. According to Pam and a little investigating on my own (watch out Magnum P.I.), this “house” currently located at 138 S. Oak was once referred to as Block 2, lot 9-10.

Thanks to the Bartlett History Museum, here’s an abbreviated rundown of some its history…

  • In 1874, the very first owners, Mr. and Mrs. John Carr bought the property and they build a home. This property was part of the original 40 acres that established Bartlett in 1873. Sometime later, Mr. Carr builds another home on the same lot. So, the house that stands there today is not the original one that the Carrs first built.
  • The Carrs eventually move to Aurora.
  • Lots 9-10 change ownership back and forth from 1883 to 1893.
  • In 1893, the Carrs sell the lots 9-10 to Mr. Louis Stumpf for $1,800.
  • In 1918, Mr. Stumpf sells his lot to Mr. August Schick for $3,600.
  • In 1921, Mr. Schick sells lots 9-10 to Mr. Fred Brandt. No info on how much it was sold for. And, because house numbers didn’t exist at that time, it is still unclear if lots 9-10 is 138 S. Oak, where the bookstore and boutique are currently located.
  • According to a 1930 census, it showed the Brandts are living elsewhere.
  • In June of 1977, the property was zoned for commercial and since then, has been home to many businesses.

Caption: Here’s a picture of the Stumpf family. Historical information and image provided by the Bartlett History Museum, Bartlett, IL. To learn more about Bartlett history visit, go to: www.villageofbartlettmuseums.org.

 

 

But, now it is Pam’s book haven. She is a connoisseur of novel genres who is putting her imprint on her own history and preserving a dying brick and mortar business of bookselling.

The floor creaks; it’s pretty tight—watch for the angled/sloping ceilings. There are secret doors, and maybe even some ghosts lurking around—ask Pam about “Mr. Poe”.

Above all else, there are books for all ages with shelves overflowing with stories that defy time. So many classics; new and old, and forgotten books, to peruse and enjoy. This place is for the book enthusiast….

Just read what some of the patrons have said about the Booklady’s Book Attic from her Facebook page (see link below under References).

The testimonials themselves speak volumes as to the care that Ms. Pam has taken for every author’s written word.

This store is everything I would want and more! Great service, awesome selection, great prices, and Pam gives back and helps others. I will always support someone with a heart like hers!

I finally stopped in at the BookLady’s Book Attic after driving past it everyday on my way to work. What an amazing shop!! A great selection of books that should appeal to everyone! I was particularly impressed by the large and interesting collection of children’s and young adult books. Pam is super friendly and was really great to talk to. I can’t wait to visit again!

Truly a charming and must-see little shop in downtown Bartlett. There are a wide variety of books in all genres and for all-ages available, all in perfect shape and at rock-bottom prices. The owner is probably one of the most friendly people you will ever meet.

This place is amazing!! I feel in love from the moment I walked in, I was in book heaven!!!  Pam is super friendly and so easy to approach. My girls loved getting all their new books and can’t wait to go back.”

I hope you get to visit this place. If so, tell Pam I sent you.

Booklady’s Book Attic

138 S. Oak Ave.

Bartlett, IL.

 

Until next time…

Be well. Be safe. Be happy.

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