In Praise of Brandy in the Library

It's raining in Seattle today. Fancy that! I just got back from taking Ramses out for a walk so he could "leave his card" around the neighborhood. He likes showing the other dogs who the "Big Dog" is. It makes him chuckle. I think it has to do with how high up the tree trunk or fence post he can reach or something.

Walking back to the house, the rain has let up and the sunset sky is the loveliest honey/wheat colour along the horizon. So beautiful.

The perfect weather and time of day to sit in the library, put my feet up and read a book.

I love reading. My mother was an antiquarian bookseller. I learned all the book rules from her: never bend the pages to mark your place (that's what bookmarks are for), never lay it open face down (it breaks its back), never remove the illustrations (100% barbarian action). In general, treat books as the treasures they are. Having been raised by a book zealot, I've never understood books as decoration. I also don't understand when I go to someone's home and there are no books. I think it's kindah weird.

When I was a young designer, I was chatting with a friend about a meeting I had with an iconic Seattle interior designer at a reception for Jack Lenor Larsen. Everything about the reception was breath-taking. The meeting with the Iconic Seattle Interior Designer? Not so much.

I waxed poetic about how important it is for established designers to be cordial to new designers. I guess my friend could tell my feelings got hurt. To cheer me up, he started telling me stories about her. I laughed at the industry tales about the aforementioned I*S*I*D; how she terrorized clients, vendors and architects, alike. My friend said his favourite was the time the I*S*I*D designed utterly beautiful bookcases that cost the earth for a very affluent client. The I*S*I*D was famous for bowling people over; sort of like "the light switch stays, everything else goes" with a sweep of the hand. Anyway, the very expensive custom cabinet maker had just finished the installation when the aforementioned I*S*I*D swanned into the room.

"How do you like it," she asked (not really caring about the answer.)

"Ehem, well," they stammered. "They really are beautiful, but . . . ah, well, Jean, we, ah, well, we really don't read."

"Stay right there. I'll be right back," she said. Never one to be deterred, the I*S*I*D immediately got into her car and drove directly to Goodwill and bought enough books by the pound to fill a library. In fact, that library . . .  

God, we laughed our hair off!

Every time I go into a person's real library, I'm reminded of the glory of books, the importance of useless knowledge, the usefulness of important knowledge, and, the importance of the written word. Every day we see the truth of the old adage ~ "The pen is mightier than the sword." Even in the age of twitter and linkedin, when we read about what is happening around the world in real time, we see how the strength of ideas binds people together.

I'm going to celebrate. Hot cocoa and brandy in the library tonight. Like shining the silver and ironing the linen napkins, one of the other things that keeps civilization together.