A Momentous Occasion . . . I Finally Visited the Tattered Cover
When we have children, sometimes we tend to box up our lives (literally and figuratively), and place things in a closet for a few years, while 90% of your attention is taken by a little voice saying "Mommy, mommy . . . look! Look! Mommy." To which the usual response is something like "I see, Peanut. Wow! You can jump over your shoes. I bet no other child in the history of mankind has learned how to jump over their shoes." Okay . . . maybe I'm a little heavy on the sarcasm. On the other hand, my child will grow up understanding sarcasm.
Back to the boxing metaphor. . . After a few years, you open the closet doors and see all of these boxes covered with dust and these boxes become windows into your past life (because trust me: pre-child and post-child will give reincarnation a run for its money any day). For me, many of those boxes contain books. And the hours and hours of reading time that I never had to spend . . . until now.
Thirty years, and I've never visited one of the most famous bookstores (if not THE famous bookstore) in Denver . . . until yesterday.
And it was like blowing the dust off a very important box, and opening it to find a lot of fond memories. And no . . . the Tattered Cover does not smell like mothballs and dust . . . I'm pretty sure most of that was in my head. But the point is, I spent HOURS wandering around looking at any section that caught my fancy, and pulling a few select books off the shelves. I spent an additional hour curled up in an armchair and reading . . . uninterrupted even . . . reading! The armchairs was located next to a bright window, and muted sunlight (it was cloudy yesterday) spilled through the glass and onto the book, lighting it perfectly (yes, armchair positions matter - that's how I knew these people UNDERSTAND what makes a good reading nook) . . .
and I think I found a piece of myself that's been locked in a box for four years. I felt a restoration. I found a peace I've been missing (or would it be a "piece" I've been missing)?
Either way, the Tattered Cover was awesome!
Back to the boxing metaphor. . . After a few years, you open the closet doors and see all of these boxes covered with dust and these boxes become windows into your past life (because trust me: pre-child and post-child will give reincarnation a run for its money any day). For me, many of those boxes contain books. And the hours and hours of reading time that I never had to spend . . . until now.
Thirty years, and I've never visited one of the most famous bookstores (if not THE famous bookstore) in Denver . . . until yesterday.
And it was like blowing the dust off a very important box, and opening it to find a lot of fond memories. And no . . . the Tattered Cover does not smell like mothballs and dust . . . I'm pretty sure most of that was in my head. But the point is, I spent HOURS wandering around looking at any section that caught my fancy, and pulling a few select books off the shelves. I spent an additional hour curled up in an armchair and reading . . . uninterrupted even . . . reading! The armchairs was located next to a bright window, and muted sunlight (it was cloudy yesterday) spilled through the glass and onto the book, lighting it perfectly (yes, armchair positions matter - that's how I knew these people UNDERSTAND what makes a good reading nook) . . .
and I think I found a piece of myself that's been locked in a box for four years. I felt a restoration. I found a peace I've been missing (or would it be a "piece" I've been missing)?
Either way, the Tattered Cover was awesome!
posted by Andrea Peach | 5:18 AM
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