The Aardvark Blog

Ch, Ch, Changes - Turn and Face the Strain
18/11/2023

The last week I have started to work through the books that we bought at Frankfurt, in which there have been quite a few on David Bowie. This maybe why I have had the words of Bowie's song 'Changes' running through my head over the last few days. Speaking of change. Meg who has been in the Café has now left us for the delights of Val D'Isere (yes I know, what can Vd'I have that Brampton Bryan doesn't?), and so we have been looking for someone to fill her not inconsiderable metaphorical shoes. This process has not been without its ups and downs, but we are delighted to say that Angharad has joined us this week.

Then this is the time of year when one looks back at the months past and has a think about what one wants to do next year. This year marked the last of our collaborations with Anna Dreda and whilst I am sorry that there will be no more, I am so grateful to her for the fantastic writers she brought to Aardvark. This year also saw our brilliant event with Frieda Hughes to mark the publication of her Magpie memoir 'George'. Lots of brilliant music from Jack Brett, Blue Moon and others at our Car Boots and Fairs, and above all an insane number of books have found their way into the building. I still have piles and piles to clear before our Christmas Fair on the 3rd December, and it will be little short of a miracle if I get it all done.

And it would seem that Change is also underway in the country at large. The political situation is much commented upon by Aardvark customers, and the international situation is simply heartbreaking. Still some things continue as ever. I was delighted to again act as sales point for British Legion Poppies. Remembrance Day makes me think of my dad, and how grateful I am to him and his Worcestershire Regiment fellows for their bravery and steadfastness. Through the year we have our own remembrance days as we often talk about friends, colleagues and customers who are no longer with us. Edward, obviously and Julia Haslam who was such a stalwart in our early days, and customers such as Brian, or Graham, or Jenny. It is perhaps inevitable as the nights draw in and the mornings darken, that one should find oneself in a more contemplative mood, but more often than not it is happy occasions we remember - the early days of the Café when my mother would help me on a Sunday, Edward sitting on the front desk with a glass of wine on event days - all these and many more wonderful memories warm one's heart during the cold and dank days we are going through.

Yet whether it is the number of people who now pay with their phones, or the number of new people who have moved into the area, change is inevitable. As Bowie sang: 'Time may change me/but I can't trace time'. And whilst occasionally I wish I could make everything stand still for a moment, I know it is not possible. And besides, there are always new authors to discover, new realms to understand and new people to meet. Perhaps change is not all bad.