Tag Archives: Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap

The Redemption of Evansville

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Those of you who have read Little Bookstore know about the trip Jack and I made in 2011, visiting indie bookstores and small towns. One of these was a little place along I-64, not named in the book because every bookstore we tried to visit there turned out to be a porn shop.

Fulton Avenue Books was the only shop I mentioned by name in Little Bookstore. I had no idea at the time how (in)famous it was. About every three days, someone finds my blog through a search on “Fulton Ave Books,” or “Fulton Books Evansville,” or even “porn shops little redhead Wendy Indiana.”

(I have no idea, and I’m not about to Google to find out.)

But soon after my book came out,  a nice e-mail arrived from a lady named Betsy, saying, “I know where you were: Evansville, Indiana. I live there, and it’s not ALL bad! There’s a really nice Middle Eastern restaurant just one town over, and pleasant shops. We’re not just porn bookstores!”

I told Betsy it was a fair cop; yes, it was Evansville, and we’d actually tried FOUR stores, not just the two mentioned in my book, and she shot back an invitation that, next time we were out that way, she would buy us dinner at a great place in a cute part of town.

So when Jack and I realized that our trip to MariaJoseph Books near St. Louis would take us past the infamous Evansville, we let Betsy know.

“Saturday night dinner on us,” she responded. “We’ll show you the good stuff!”

Well, she and her husband Freeman and daughter Sarah showed us Newburgh, which is a little town right next to Evansville, full of quaint shops and cool bistros. And we had a lovely meal of goat cheese and curry and baklava–oh bliss. But we teased her that she’d had to come to the next town over for redemption–whereupon she hauled out a little gift bag and gave us chocolates (mmm, pecans) and lavender soap as well, both made in Evansville.

We had a grand time discussing Sarah’s teen sweet stash exchange with an online pal from Sweden (salted licorice not a hit with Sarah stateside; peanut butter spat out in horror in Sweden) and talking about the chances of survival for printed books and media. (We think they have better chances than peanut butter does in Sweden).

Would that all small towns in America had such staunch defenders as Betsy is to Evansville! Evansville, thou art redeemed–and scented pleasantly with lavender.

RETIREMENT IS FOR THE YOUNG

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Jack’s weekly guest blog

One day, dashing into the grocery in Scotland, I met a college colleague who had retired a year earlier. I asked him how we was enjoying his retirement.

“Ah, Jack,” he said, “it was made for a younger man than me!”

I know what he meant, now.

We are approaching the end of the grand basement remodeling (and Wendy swears there will be pictures to follow). If I do say so myself, the place looks lovely and cozy and just like us. The construction work (my part) is done, and we are now in the process of moving stuff down there from our upstairs rooms (mostly Wendy’s job). The last job I had to do was to fit a dog/cat flap in the old door to the outside yard and show our animals how to use it. (I hope Wendy didn’t get a picture of me halfway through the flap, bum sticking out, saying, “See, Zora, see? It’s so easy, just come along there.”

I suppose in the back of my mind, I was thinking that now the building is done, I would relax and take it easy, read my favorite blogs (on Scottish Independence, Folk Musicians, and Reasons not to Care about the Royal Baby – hey, I’m Scottish.)

Not a chance on that relaxation thing….

Before the upstairs turns into the SECOND STORY EATERY we envision (read: Wendy wants) there are things to be done: among others, repainting the staircase and our  upstairs former bedroom, installing heat and air up there (that’ll be fun) and fitting in an extra sink in the kitchen (required by the health inspector).

Then there’s the approaching Big Stone Celtic annual festival (Sept 28; y’all come!) with all the attendant meetings and emailing and phone calling – – –

Meanwhile the bookstore still has to be looked after with all that entails (mostly box after box of trade credit books) and producing programs for my weekly radio show keeps nudging me as well. We won’t even talk about Wendy’s foster cats and their needs.

Retirement? Pshaw!! I’ve never been busier in my life!

For those following the story of Hazel the elderly foster cat, she now has her own Facebook page in  her new home. Keep up with her exploits by liking CLAN HAZEL.