“Mummy, I know what OMG is, I know what LOL is, but what does WTF mean?”

Mummy did a goldfish face whilst I came out with a desperate and pathetic:

“It means What’s The Future”

Shortly after I was admiring a beautiful 6 week old baby when my Mum called in and within seconds was regaling the new mother with tales of her nursing history – cycling around Manchester delivering babies, just like Call the Midwife.   Much as I would have loved to have stayed for the whole four decades, I had to see to other customers.  I don’t know whether the new mum was transfixed or in a torpor but by the time I got back Mum was working her way through all five of her own childbirth experiences!  Thankfully the new mum has a sense of humour that would give Jo Brand a run for her money so I am sure she will be able to laugh herself out of any resulting psychological trauma.

To top it all off the till has decided to stop working – not a light, not a bleep, nothing.   It’s not the fuse – I’ve checked!    I have managed to unearth the old till but can’t quite remember how to work it – must be my age (when you get a birthday card saying In Dog Years You Would be Dead – Sarah Woolley!!!! – you know its bad).

Never a dull moment. 

I have had to resist trawling for more fascinating facts on the Enid owing to the 29 boxes of toys that have arrived from Mel & Doug – suppliers of our extremely popular range of educational and crafty childrens things.  Dressing-up outfits are back – chef, fireman, hairdresser, pirate, fire chief, policeman, princess, fairy and vet – along with some great new stuff – Princess Scratch Art Set, Giddy Bug Binoculars and the Deluxe Pounding Bench (you have to see it!!!).

Today was much the same as yesterday; it has gone something like this:-

Have you got a Street Cat Named Bob?

Could I have A Street Cat Named Bob please?

Oh, could I order a copy of  Street Cat Named Bob then?       

Could I order a copy of A Street Cat Named Bob?

Way to go James and to the incredible Bob who has returned his masters kindness with fame and riches - what a great story.  

A Street Cat Named Bob £14.99 Hardback       

This morning I have been ruminating on the recent upsurge in orders for self-help books – Potatoes not Prozac being just one of a few in today’s orders. Is this because we are being encouraged to “educate, empower, motivate” or are we just down in the dumps and trying to avoid prescription charges?   Curiousity led me to have a look at the current crop in this genre, some of which caught my eye:

You Don’t Need a Self-Help Book                   -     bookshop’s worst nightmare                  

The Last Self-Help Book You’ll Ever Need     -     No it’s not!!!!!!!

Do You Think What You Think You Think       -    I think I think I do

Creating Your Giant Self                                   -    did 20 million obsese Brits read this?

Chronic Fatigue Self-Help Book                       -    cba

I’ve just finished a new book – what a corker – had me up reading into the early hours. It would certainly spark a good debate at a book club.     

The Light Between Oceans

by M.L. Stedman 

Would you accept a chance for happiness even if it wasn’t yours to have? This is a story about a lighthouse keeper and his wife, who live on a lonely island with just seagulls, stars and buffeting winds for company.  It’s about a tiny baby and a dead man in a boat that drifts ahsore one April morning, and the apparently harmless decision they made that day.  More than anything, it’s a story about right and wrong, and how sometimes they look the same.

A lady, so grateful and so taken by Sarah Woolley’s help and advice yesterday, felt obliged to visit the shop again today to re-live the experience, showing me all the items that had been discussed and purchased.  I don’t know whether it was the excitement, too much Alpen or a low-lying medical condition but her circuits of the shop were peppered with the most incredibly loud flatulance.  She didn’t blush nor turn a hair but was oblivious (or deaf) to the impropriety of such noisy excess gas.  I didn’t know whether to laugh, leave or administer charcoal.  

So Sarah Woolley sewed it and I reaped it – so much for proverbs!

Customer:      Have you got any cards to symphathise with someone whose got dumped by their boyfriend - its for my daughter.

Me:                Here’s a nice one:  Into every life a little rain must fall.  Would you like to shelter under my umbrella?

Customer:      Na, I just want something to say he’s been a right t—t.

and

Customer on buying an Anniversary Card:     

“He’s in one of his funny moods – I’ve left him lying on the bed wearing his cagoule with the hood up and the string pulled tight, with a pair of goggles on and his mouth wide open.   I just looked at him and thought “yuk!”.

Priceless!

Andrew Miller        2011 Costa Book of the Year

Just finished this one:

Deep in the heart of Paris, its oldest cemetery is, by 1785,  overflowing, tainting the very breath of those who live nearby.  Into their midst comes Jean-Baptiste Baratte, a young provincial engineer charged by the king with the task of demolishing it.  At first Baratte sees this as a chance to clear the burden of history, a fitting task for a modern man of reason.  But, before long, he begins to suspect that the destruction of the cemetery might be a prelude to his own.

Qu’est-ce qu’un livre fantastique – une-annee de viol, le suicide et la mort subite, de l’amitie, le desir et l’amour.

(As if I would use the Google translator!)

Why can’t the Isle of Wight be spelt properly – then I wouldn’t have to endure the embarrasment of trying to order an ordnance survey map for a place that doesn’t exist i.e. the Isle of White.