Bookshop

I spent this afternoon signing, and reading from, 'Aesop's Fables' at my favourite kind of bookshop, an independent one in a small town. It was a lovely way to spend a Saturday afternoon, with bright young listening faces and a few puppets to help things along. The Crow, which belongs to LOS and is old enough to have lost a wing, was a big hit with everyone.

At one point, during a lull about an hour before closing time, I looked up and, I mean, just looked. A shop full of beautifully displayed books. A lady browsing the shelves. At the other end, the counter with the bookshop man standing behind it and, beyond him, customers looking in through the big display window, pointing out the titles to each other. It could have been a scene from any century since bookshops began. Long may it continue!

On the shelves was a volume which the bookshop man and I thought was very funny, a sort of '1001 Tips for Perfect Housekeeping' book. I probably should have looked at it, though, as the Sunshines are having problem with mould in a few corners of their little house and LOS has been cleaning mildew off his shoes. Any reliable old remedies, anyone? It would be much appreciated. Thank you!