"You wamt ketchup with that, piss off" our waitress says. The guy in line at the bank wants two hundred dollars in dimes for no apparent reason other than to vex us. We suddenly become enraged, avowing to murder the asshole driving three miles below the speed limit blaring Limp Bizkit out of a stereo more attuned to the mating call of a dodo, which it might be. 

It is on us, these Dog Days of Summer. All we can do is shoulder through the heat, read a book in the shade of a tree or take up residence in the basement until nightfall. The heat suits us just as the rain and the cold suit us. Either we adapt or don't. Someone famous once said that to someone else equally famous while surrounded by a small group of lesser knowns and nobodys, and it still rings true.

This summer we're redesigning the format of the store to make room for more books and a more open space for readings and events. The ever present danger of the Law of Accumulation in Relation to Books has filled our shelves to the breaking point and they're piling up in the aisles.

The new arrangement should give us a brief respite from the crowding sense of weight pushing in on us. We'll be right back where we started in a year, but that is another summer and another revolution of the earth away.

As we limp through the summer make sure to stop by and hang out during the afternoons or evenings. We'll grab a drink, maybe two; discuss the weather and talk about what we're reading lately. And in no time, everyone will be complaining about the rain and how damn cold it is again; we'll have a drink or two to chase away the chills, discuss the weather and talk about what we're reading lately.