Booksellers past and even further past

Lunch with Jay and Bryony today, catching up on their current careers - Bryony will probably be something very important in Usborne Education in a year's time, and I foresee Jay writing fireman's memoirs along the lines of "Blood Sweat and Tea". He told us how he'd been on a call to a local boy's school, because the janitor had detected 'a funny smell'. (Not unusual in boy's schools). The smell of scented burning wood turned out to be coming from the office of the Head of Religious Studies - he'd been lighting joss sticks and forgotten to put them out completely.

Centre-stage was Jay and Nic's daughter Chloe, who I'd only really seen as a babe-in-arms before. She's now eighteen months old, and displays sunny self-composure (a Mum trait, I think) with a dash of obstinacy and 'look at me, look at me' pizzazz (both from Dad).

I should really be writing my intranet content this evening and tomorrow. I got distracted last night by "84 Charing Cross Road", a book which I had I never read before, and which I'd borrowed because the first ever audio version comes out next month. It's lovely stuff - like reading a well-informed, quirky,passionate blog with mild understatements of British reserve in the comments. (I particularly liked the letter which ends '...now listen, Frankie, it's going to be a long cold winter and I babysit in the evenings AND I NEED READING MATTER, NOW DON'T START SITTING AROUND, GO FIND ME SOME BOOKS.')