Life is short, so I have decided to live out part of my dream existence by going on monthly literary dates. This month’s date: Valley Bookseller and Green Bridge Coffee in Stillwater, MN.
Valley Bookseller in Stillwater
Love at first sign. At first signs.
Like those of a book cover. The signs in the windows of Valley Bookseller portended good things within.
Snack, Nap, Read: Raising Passionate Readers
Eat, Sleep, Read Local
Peace Love Books
Our bookstore and coffee date started there.
I felt the pull of two shoulds on the Monday we went. My Ireland book was nearly done, and I should’ve been at home working on it. But at the end of February, I decided to start a monthly literary date tradition. A commitment. May was more than halfway done.
White Bear Lake Literary Date: Books & Coffee
Each date involves visiting an independent bookstore and a nearby locally owned coffee shop. So far, Chris has come along on each one.
My TBRs at home are becoming more of a library than a stack. Thanks to a sign inside Acorn Bookshop from my last literary date, I’ve made peace with that.
“Build Your Library: Build your library at home. Give yourself choices. Read what you want when it moves you. You’ll always read more.”
My TBR books take up shelf and desk space in my study, which I used to call my office, resentfully. There’s something about that word that makes a space feel as if it’s for selling or managing. Annoying. Study feels truer. Feels better.
Inside the store
Front and center, the first book I noticed, Take Me To Your Leader by Neil DeGrasse Tyson: Perspectives on Your First Alien Encounter. Next to it, Angel Down by Daniel Kraus. The Forgotten Midwife by Laura Anthony is nearby. Aliens. World War I and a fallen angel. Haunting and hopeful.
Peeking from behind Angel Down is Waterfront Living. Life does go on. Some live well.
I can’t remember if it was when I was browsing in nonfiction. The Look by Michelle Obama. History Matters by David McCulloch. Jill Lepore’s History of the Constitution. Twin Cities Cocktails.
Or if it was while I was admiring the Papyrasaurus Book Club earrings. The Real Mother Goose ones gave nostalgia. Winnie the Pooh. Pride and Prejudice. 1984.
Book Shopping and Apocalyptic Rambling
But at some point, R.E.M.’s It’s the End of the World as We Know It (and I Feel Fine) came on while we shopped. Correction. I shopped. Chris found a comfortable chair to relax in. He might have looked at a few books.
Instead of thinking about how the world seems to be falling apart, and it does seem like a more tangible eventuality each day lately, I thought about Kinsale.
Twenty years ago, when end-of-times indicators were few and far between, my imagination filled in the gaps. I knew the sky might fall at any moment. If the clouds looked too full or dark, a fifteen-minute drive to work flivered my heart a pace the engine of my 4-cylinder, too-many-miled, blue, ‘80-something Honda Civic couldn’t match.
Back then, I had a roommate who thought I read too much and lived too little. I dreamt of a dragon from Mao’s China flying to our streets. I’d finished Life and Death in Shanghai by Nien Cheng for a Women’s Studies class at Rochester Community College. My roommate said we’d never let such things happen here.
Some say Hitler about the current administration. Mao too. Frank Kitson in Northern Ireland.
Now I know that fears that feel real don’t feel worse. Perspective. It’s been the end of the world before. There’s a gate in Kinsale called it. A lighthouse stands at the end of the world at Cape St. Vincent, Portugal. Maybe resignation rides alongside recognition. Maybe they’re the horsemen that precede the four.
What I Bought
I had decisions to make. I almost picked up a Jane Austen game, but not knowing who I’d play it with when, I left it on the shelf. Other near pick-ups: The News from Dublin by Colm Tóibín, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.
I lifted American Rambler: Walking the Trail of Johnny Appleseed from a table. I leafed through its first few pages and decided not to let go. I made my purchase. Time to move on. Time for coffee and tea.
Green Bridge Coffee Shop
We walked to Green Bridge Coffee Shop, where the Rambunctious Goose Mystery Latte is made.
According to the lore I was told at the counter, it began when one coworker said to another, “Geese are rambunctious.”
The other agreed and liked the sound of rambunctious.
A sign was born, and Rambunctious Goose Mystery Lattes became so popular that they now sell Rambunctious Goose t-shirts.
Words. Voila.
Peppermint tea and a raspberry white chocolate scone for me. Cappuccino and Butterscotch Oatmeal Cookie for Chris.
We sit at the window bar. Across the street from us, a lineup of tempting stores: Art N Soul, Pinch N Rub Spice, Angry Minnow. Poor minnows. I’d be angry too.
A man outside snaps photos with a real camera.
Inside, there is a Community Board with a large fabric sign above it that reads “Practice Radical Empathy.”
Next to me is a glass bottle imprinted with the words County Cork holding a felted flower. I wish for it to be a good omen for the book I should’ve been working on at home.
I scribble in my journal between sips of tea and bites of my scone.
Green Bridge Coffee Shop’s raspberry white chocolate scone tastes like a scone. Praise be. In the United States, sometimes scones taste like scones, and sometimes they taste like muffins. I’m not sure where the disconnect came, but it did, and it is real. This scone-tasting scone has a salty bite that balances the white chocolate’s sweetness.
Sitting at the window, writing in my journal, noticing and remembering on a Monday afternoon.
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