Progress, by the grace of God and my lady friends

Dear Reader -  My heavens, it's been a roller-coaster of a week here at Casa J & C. We have been working our little fingers to the nubbins, and, thanks be to God, our friends have been helping, big-time, along the way!

Here's some of what's been happening . . .

We've been unpacking books. Books like these:
and . . .
and . . .
and . . .
and . . .

And . . . our lady friends have been helping us each day. Friends like Margaret, who, when dutifully alphabetizing the biography section, cried out, "Oh my gosh! This is my absolute favorite book of all time! I don't know about his politics, but I totally love the man . . . and I loaned mine to someone years ago, and I've never been able to remember who - and I've never been able to find another copy 'till now!" This, dear Reader, is what I've been waiting for all these months - moments like these when the little books that've found me find the new homes where they're really meant to live. I was in absolute heaven as Margaret passed over her $5 for Airborn, our first book sale:

While every one of us has done our own fair share of label removal, returning the books to their un-besmirched state, Ms. Sue has been the Goddess of Goo Gone:
(See that water bottle, dear reader? That water bottle was later used by Libby to put out a little fire [not started by us] on Second Street - the crew at biblion is so darn industrious.)

And speaking of Libby . . . Libby has worked wonders with the blue seat cushions on those lovely Duncan and Phyfe chairs:
(What the heck happened on this one, I wonder . . .)

I went to Dreamweaver fabrics at the Midway shopping center, and they couldn't have been more helpful and lovely. They assisted me in picking out a few different fabric choices for the chairs, pointing me in the direction of this upholstery fabric in particular (which was super cool, since it'd been a discontinued model by the manufacturer that they'd picked up at a discount that they likewise passed generously on to their customers):

Angie's daughter (whose name I can't recall in the moment) and Beth helped me. When I went back to make my final selection after looking at the fabric at our shop, Beth cut it for me and then helped me determine if I needed to get new padding:
She cut away the decades-old blue fabric to see that I had near-perfect, high-quality cotton batting underneath. I left their shop with my gorgeous upholstery fabric and some instruction on how to proceed with the installation.

Well, I tried doing one with the help of my friend Judy. The results were just fine (we were actually pretty doggone proud of ourselves, Reader), but nothing like what happened when Libby up and decided to grab this ball. These old, once tired, chairs now look blissfully happy and absolutely stunning:

Finally, my friend Denise was the Book Whisperer. Her brilliant practicality and keen aesthetic could take any shelf of books and make sense of it. I turned my back for half an hour or so, helping the birthday cards find their new home, and when I came back around, she'd taken a problem with the fiction and biography sections and completely resolved it, tout sweet:

Oh, and speaking of cards, I'd be remiss if I didn't, once again, acknowledge the help of one of my gentlemen friends as well. Mr. Phil helped my assemble the Borealis card rack from Maine. One of the primary supports needed a little repair, so he did that, and then we tag-teamed the Lucite racks. Here's the result:

There's just one more card line that's on its way to us, but the rest have found their homes. The birthday cards are ready to celebrate:

The special occasions are spinning at the front of the store:

The Sigmund and all his buddies are ready for guests to choose them and then choose how to greet them with their unique little stickers (could there be a better Mother's Day card?):

And the letter-pressed bellamuse cards have joined Jonathan Wright on the rack:

Folks keep asking "when," and I keep chuckling away. I dunno, Reader, I figure it could be any day now, but I've realized that I'm not going to know when it's time 'till it's time (just call me the Queen o' Intuition). I told my lady friends that we're gonna do a little burlesque routine as our means to a soft opening. We're gonna slowly peel away bits of that paper, sending a titillating little mixed signal to our passersby, 'till we eventually get it all off.

If you're wandering by and the papers peeling and the lights are on, be brave, come knock at the door - we'll welcome you in!  - Jenny