Of Mocha and Friends, Part 2

I love words. I love words and good stories. I love words and good stories in beautiful books.



Cookbooks are fun. Maybe because of all the pictures. I can imagine myself slicing and dicing, sauteing and simmering those wonderful picture perfect meals for my family. And I can salivate over all the desserts with no regret or fear of weight gain.

Once on the eyes, never on the thighs.

This one's for my SIL--


If the world is ever completely destroyed by nuclear war or space debris crashing into us, I am convinced these three will survive--roaches, Elvis impersonators, and Hostess Twinkies. But then I would expect true armageddon to occur as the Elvis impersonators and roaches fight over the remaining Twinkies. (I'm really surprised Ray Bradbury or Aldous Huxley never imagined that one.)

I love the way B & N decorates with renderings of classic book covers, especially this one:


(Yes, I am also a classic movie nerd. And someday you will be too. Imagine life when you reach sixtysomething and Speed 2:Cruise Control is old enough to be considered a classic.)

Can you just hear Max Steiner's Oscar winning theme? I can. In fact, I lit a candle on the shelf just under the poster in honor of that great southern heroine Prissy. You remember Prissy don't you, and her classic line, "But Miz Scahlet, Miz Scahlet, I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies."?

B& N also has supplies of all sorts. Scrapbooking and stamping paraphernalia(you get an extra 10 points if you can spell paraphernalia without looking it up).


And journals and stationery (another extra 10 points if you know the difference between stationery and stationary).


I can't help but think (while cradling a moleskine notebook in my hand) that this writing tool of legend, this companion of Hemingway and countless other writers and explorers, could help me chronicle my exploits and become a world class writer.

Or not.

I'd probably never have a pencil short enough to fit or sharpened enough to write. I would lay it down somewhere and forget where I put it.

But one can dream . . .

(fade to black, theme from Gone With the Wind swelling to crescendo)

UPDATE: Since writing this I have been outed as a white person. Read here.

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Answer to yesterday's quiz: