Aside from the year that Columbus made his journey across the sea, the above 1492 stands for something else. I’ll give you a hint. It isn’t mugs. I already told you I have 72 of those and the number, thankfully, hasn’t grown. It’s also not silverware, although we do have a lot, mostly to accommodate family get-togethers. Also, none of it is actually “silver”, but stainless steel ware is to hard to say. So what exactly is my 1492?
A few years ago, we took a family vacation to Hilton Head, SC and stopped for lunch and an overnight stay in Savannah, GA on the way home. The lunch was nice, the overnight accommodations were fascinating. We stayed in the Savannah Bed & Breakfast Inn. Built in 1853, the Inn is a row of connected town homes. The owner of the Inn has opened the walls between a few and kept the others intact. Each room has a brick fireplace which, along with the brick walls, is original to the property. We’ve been there twice now in two different rooms and I can’t help daydreaming about what those bricks have seen.
This last visit was just a few weeks ago. We were looking for a quick and easy get away and invited my sister, who had been with us the first time we went. My sister and I made the reservations, mine for Roxanne Chin, hers for Lisa Chin. No, we aren’t Asians. Yes, we both married. And if you haven’t figured it out yet, two sisters married two brothers. It’s legal. I promise. Lisa is single now, but still carries the Chin last name and so my husband, always the quick-thinking trickster, loves to have fun with this. Allow me to digress a bit…
Last year at a memorial service for a very dear friend, we were together and greeted a young lady that we’ve known for most of her life. She called over her fiance to introduce us. My husband shook his hand first saying, “I’m Cliff Chin.” I was next saying, “I’m Roxanne Chin.” And then my sister added, “I’m Lisa Chin.” It was at this point that my husband quickly interjected, “We’re Mormons.” We all laughed, probably a little too loudly for the setting. Back to Savannah…
As I was saying, Lisa and I made the reservations and so we had to sign the check-in papers. The woman at the desk asked for all of our names. You know where this is going, right? My husband made his Mormon proclamation, but this time the older woman behind the desk didn’t laugh. She just looked at us. And then, my dear man pointed at me and added, “Tonight it’s her turn.” He thinks he’s funny. We laughed and I think the woman caught on that it was a joke. Maybe.
We dropped our bags and set off for the sights. There are a lot of small businesses in Savannah, little boutiques, restaurants, and coffee shops that do not have the well-known commercial monikers. It is a charming city. A romantic city. A historic city. But, though all of those things are nice, none of those things is really what draws me to Savannah. Why am I drawn to Savannah? Why do I sit for 5 hours in a car to get there if not for the sights? Because of this…
A bookstore. But not just any bookstore. A cozy bookstore. A bookstore with sofas and chairs. A bookstore with lots of little rooms and nooks and cranny’s where you can sit and get lost in a book.
A bookstore with two resident fluffy cats that completely ignore the patrons, but somehow add to the warm, welcoming, relaxing atmosphere.
And, as if that is not enough…A bookstore with a tea shop!
And so, I confess, though I enjoy the sights, the sounds, and the history of Savannah, I go to Savannah for a bookstore.
That is the number of books currently residing in our home. I counted them. All of them. About 200 of them belong to my husband, the rest are mine. I prefer them to the 72 mugs.
But, then again, it’s really not that big a deal…