Now, Where Was I?

Summer’s officially over and things have begun piling up.

Cataloging stuff for the “ABAA Virtual Book Fair: Autumn Edition” (One of 27 dealers. What was I thinking?) But first I’ve got to finish Maritime List 363 because it ought to go up before the virtual fair, which begins on the 25th. Once I’ve got those two projects out of the way I can resume packing for the Seattle Antiquarian Book Fair, one of my favorites, because I want to send my stuff out there early in October.  By last Thursday it was so darned busy at Ten Pound Island that I couldn’t even turn around without bumping into another task from my “To Do” list. And all the while there was something else I really needed To Do.

So Anne Marie and I took a getaway weekend up at our son’s place in Jay, VT, deep in the Northern Kingdom. One of those decisions you make on the spur of the moment. They usually wind up being one of the best things you’ve decided in a long while, or the worst.

This one was the best. The weather was perfect, and the foliage was just beginning to catch fire. We drove around a bit, and then took a walk, just like those happy couples in hearing aid and rest home ads. Friday night we ate at the Jay Village Inn.

They gave us so much food we had Friday’s dinner for breakfast and lunch the next day. More walks. Lots of reading and sitting in the sun. Saturday night we went to Omakase, an Asian fusion restaurant on the far side of the mountain (Jay Peak). Excellent!

The village of Jay has a population of 551. You wouldn’t expect fine dining in such a place, but right up the mountain is Jay Peak, a booming ski resort. Well, formerly booming, now merely surviving. Between the tariffs, immigration policies, and general international rudeness perpetrated by President Fatso and his Thugs,

Canadian business is way down. Season passes have taken a serious hit, and the border crossing, which used to be open 24/7, is now shut down between 8 PM and 8 AM.

Everyone in the book trade is worried about the effect of Trump’s tariffs, but all that will turn out to be just a hangnail compared to the damage he and his fellow felons will cause by pillaging our economy for their own gain.

That’s why I like riding my bike. When I’m out on the road I don’t have time to think about the damage Fatso is causing. I’m enjoying the scenery and the fresh air while I still can. I’m concentrating on not getting hit by a car, on not sliding into a roadside gully, and on getting all the way up the mountain without stopping. Oh, and how lucky I am to be able to do all this. Lucky also because it’s one place I’ll never have to worry about seeing another image of him.

Now, where was I? Oh, yeah…

Take that, MAGA