The Times they are a Changin’

It’s Thursday so it must be time for Jack’s Wednesday post –

Well – it’s finally really real.

The bookstore is up and listed for sale and the for-sale sign is prominent out front.

It’s kind of strange to have reached this point after much to-ing and fro-ing, debating and soul-searching. Many people have asked us where we are going and are we taking the bookstore somewhere else? Right now we have no idea where we’ll end up but we both feel that it’s time for another chapter in our shared story and an as yet undefined further adventure. We would much prefer to sell to someone who will continue to run it as the ‘the little bookstore that could’, but if it has to go back to a big old house then so be it.

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Part of the decision was about getting back to a simpler and less complicated life in a more manageable sized house. Of course it’s also just that sometimes a voice in your head says “it’s time’.

In the twenty years Wendy and I have been married we have lived in Fife, Scotland, Padiham, England, White Springs, Florida and here in Big Stone Gap. The longest we’ve been anywhere is here in Virginia.

I should admit right away that I absolutely hate moving house. The physical effort, the decisions about what to keep, the legalities around house sale and purchase and all the change of address stuff involved.

However, despite all that, we remain the same people and we don’t abandon friends. Social media can be a real pain but it is an excellent way to stay in touch with folk regardless of where we might physically be.

Some people have asked what will happen to my radio show and I’ve assured them that, through the wonders of the internet there’s no reason it shouldn’t keep on going as long as WETS wants it.

My tours of Scotland will also continue for two more years, although the 2019 one is fully subscribed at the moment.

A final thought – our time running the bookstore has been delightful and we’ve made many good and loyal friends along the way. Whoever takes it over will be part of a supportive community and a town that is now waking up to its true potential. The town council is bringing forward lots of good ideas to take advantage of the wonderful architecture, history and surrounding beautiful mountain countryside. Big Stone Gap is known for its local authors and famous books and the local outdoor drama based on ‘The Trail of the Lonesome Pine’ has gotten a new lease of life. All of this will continue to pull people in and the bookstore has great potential to take advantage of that and go on to build on its reputation as one of the ‘places not to miss’ for the increasing number of visitors.

 

BIRDIE SPEAKS HER MIND

birdie 2

I wasn’t feeling so great, had a kitty cold or something, so I went to get a drink from the puddle. It’s by the road and I’m drinking and WOOSH everything goes dark. I come to and this lady’s got me in her lap and she’s stroking me and crying, “It’s gonna be okay, sweetie, gonna be okay.”

The stroking was nice but the moving, I’d never been INSIDE a car before. The other cats always said to avoid them. But these nice people, they took me to this place full of white light and barking dogs and I thought, Nonono, but it was true. This was that VET CLINIC I’d heard about.

They’re poking and prodding and I’m still not feeling so great, but nothing hurts, the car went over me and I passed out. Gave me a fright. Don’t tell anyone.

And while that vet’s looking, I give a mighty sneeze an’ damn if she don’t start talking about Youth Nation Services. I don’t know what this is but the people what brung me, they start crying harder. And I’m racking my brains for what the other cats back there in the woods said about Youth Nation, and it hits me….

Oh Hell No, honey, not this little black cat. I start meowing and going crazy and one of ‘em from the clinic speaks Cat. Kendra’s her name, and I’m pleading with her and she says, let her take care of me for the weekend and come Monday they can “reassess.”birdie 1

Reassess my ass, kiddos. I’m getting outta here, but Kendra, she puts me in a cage and it’s got a soft bed and all I want to eat, and a private toilet, and, well, I get some shuteye and she’s standing there with some nasty stuff I gotta swallow. Bitter, ick, but she’s nice about it and you know after a day I’m feeling a little better. Kendra learns quickly how I like my food served and where to fluff my pillow so it’s working out.

Come Monday I’m showing ‘em every trick I got, the cute belly roll, the pathetic meow, the “PLEASE DON’T EUTH ME” big green eyes, and it works! The little one says to my new best friend Kendra, “Call Wendy.”

Great.  I gotta break in another human? But this chick comes and then I’m in a moving cage, and another car ride, but there’s no mention of Youth Nation, so I figure I got this.

BOY HOWDY do I! You shoulda seen the place we went to: ceilings to the sky, everywhere I looked a cat toy, and there were THREE places to eat and TWO toilets!

So I’m thinking I landed on all four paws when around the corner comes this tiny kitten. Really cute. Cuter than me. We can’t have that, so I go to take care of it, and this Wendy woman acts like I’m an ax murderer. What, this place doesn’t operate on the law of the jungle? Is there a sign anywhere that says, “Please do not take out the competition?” There is not.

But she explains it properly so I leave the little brat alone, and here come two more kittens! One’s got stitches in her neck and she’s real pretty, so I call her Frankenkitty. It’s hard on us black cats. The other one’s black like me, but turns out he’s the baby’s brother, so he’s kinda cautious about my motivations. He explains we’re all here to get dropped; we get a family that looks after us forever and a place to live like this one, and staff to do our bidding.

I cuff him once in thanks and we play a little. He’s a nice kid but he has to get dropped with his sister, so he’s still competition. Frankenkitty bursts into tears if I so much as look at her; she says her name is Andromeda and could I please call her that. As if. COMPETITION puddy tat, that’s what you are.

So now I’m waiting for the right sucker to walk through the door, someone who understands my sensibilities and special needs. I’m in charge. Don’t mind if it’s dogs or cats, don’t mind how many people live in the house, but if you got little kids who are scared of having their knuckles chewed, maybe I’m not the kitty for you. I never break skin, but chewing, it’s like my signature way of saying I love you. Some people use flowers, I’m told. That’s just weird.

Come visit me. I’ll bite your knuckle and see if you taste like forever. Pay no attention to the cute brats under the bed.