Book Review: The Christmas Bookshop by Jenny Colgan

Carmen hated her job, her life and how her sister and mother must speak about her. Never good enough. Her sister, Sofia, lived in Edinburgh in a perfect house, with perfect children and a perfect husband. Carmen’s only friend, Idra, worked with her at a failing women’s wear store. Dounstons had been a popular store but was failing. Mrs. March, their overbearing boss, was one more bit of Carmen’s unhappiness. They lost their jobs and while Idra quickly found work, Carmen did not. Much to her parents concern, she had moved back home and had not found work. Her sister, who was pregnant and still working, needed help with one of her clients. Carmen was approached to help, which did not make her happy. Young Mr. McCredie was about to lose his bookshop. He had neglected it badly and had few customers. If it couldn’t turn around by Christmas, it would be sold. 

To Carmen’s surprise, she began to like her new situation in Edinburgh. Not everything, but in little steps she improved her attitude and the bookshop. Auntie Carmen had bonded with her nieces and nephew, siding with them against their nanny. A thorn in her side, Skylar, slim, blond, lovely and nanny to the children, insisted upon correctness at all times. 

As Christmas approached, Carmen brought life back to the bookshop. Cleaned and decorated for Christmas, the bookshop became a friendly place with a Children’s Hour. She learned more about Mr. McCredie’s past that explained why he had tucked himself away from everyone except for his books. Carmen also meets more than one attractive man, but I’ll not give anything away about that.

An easy and pleasant read, Jenny Colgan, takes you into the streets of Edinburgh, Scotland including the Ormiston Yew, over a 1000 years old, for part of Carmen’s new experience. Perfect with a cup of hot chocolate at Christmas time.

“I think he’s barely left the house he was born in his whole life. 

He likes books more than people.”

~ Jenny Colgan, The Christmas Bookshop

Title: The Christmas Bookshop

Author: Jenny Colgan

Copyright: 2021

Publisher: originally published in Great Britain by Sphere

Format: Novel

Type: Fiction

ISBN: 978-0-06-314167-4 (paperback)

ISBN: 978-0-06-314325-8 (hardcover library edition)

It's 9 o'clock

It’s 9 o’clock

The night air is cool

Christmas lights gradually wink off, 

fading toward the New Year. 

Each next day will open 

as in all New Years past.

But tomorrow, 

the last day of 2024, 

will be its own new beginning.

“With the new day comes 

new strength and new thoughts.”

~ Eleanor Roosevelt

Random Thoughts

Once more the page is 

blank, random thoughts 

drift, falling uselessly 

into the dark. Biding 

their time, perhaps 

never to return or 

maybe to blossom. 

One never knows 

about random thoughts.

“Life is about not knowing, having to change,

 taking a moment and making the best of it.”

~ Gilda Radner

Reflected Gratitude

Only after Christmas is there time. Time for reflection about the abundance of food for family

It is easy to slide back into routines of work or play without a thought 

for those who have neither.

Ill equipped to heal society's sores, easier to pass them by, gratitude for the fullness of life is a beginning.

“You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might also 

pray in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance,”

~ Kahlil Gibran

Refreshed

Time stretched before me. 

No dinners to prepare, only 

dishes in the sink, most filling 

the dishwasher. Details of my 

life lay scattered about like 

dry leaves in the fall. A vague 

feeling niggled that someone 

should restore order, but maybe 

not right this minute. Or even 

the next. So putting on winter 

boots, my jacket, and back pack, 

I went for a walk. The streets 

were rutted with brown mushed 

up snow, pads of ice hiding beneath. 

Sidewalks were cleared. Not down 

to the cement, but shovelled and 

padded flat by many feet. Little 

brown birds ~ maybe juncos, maybe 

sparrows, maybe both ~ chitttered and 

chattered into the cool winter air. 

Refreshed and home, I lazily 

put some of my home in order. 

An aura of calm settled, brightened

by soft lights and colours of Christmas.

“Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.”

~ Paul Theroux

A Gift for All Time

My thoughts drifted as sleep beckoned. 

Stretched out on my couch, I contemplated 

these last three days of celebration ~ a gift larger than could be put in a box or bag. 

Too unwieldy to wrap in gold paper or the 

kind with snowmen on it. So the bow on it is the one in my memory. Grandchildren tearing open gifts with more toys, 

expressions of love from parents and family, playing with them for two seconds before going onto the next, while grandparents laugh, talk and admonish. Meanwhile the 

food spread on tables from this home to another, grazed on with groans of ‘I’m so full!’ 

while another bite of delicious fresh bread, pie 

or turkey disappears. Secular or religious, it is still a gift for all time.

“Each day provides its own gifts.”

~ Marcus Aurelius

Merry Christmas to all......

and to all a good night. 

Overstuffed, grateful and happy.

“Christmas is a togethery sort of holiday, That’s my favourite kind.”

~ A.A.Milne, (from Winnie the Pooh)

A Christmas Eve Table

Table laden with cheese 

and crackers, finger foods 

to snack on before the 

onslaught of tables laden

with delicious turkey and 

mashed potatoes. No room

to fit all the trimmings in. 

Trimmings are children, 

full of curiosity and fun, 

adults full of  curiosity 

and weightier discussions 

to continue on the ‘morrow. 

“Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone.”

~ Charles M. Schulz

The Boss of Me

It is often said that organizing

a gaggle of children or even a conference room of adults is 

like herding cats. Difficult 

and well nigh impossible. This cat, Mister Jet, is only one, but equally as stubborn. He does come with his own charm. All 

he has to do is turn his large golden eyes on me and I turn into servant rather than master. I hold the power 

of the kibble scoop, so do have an 

unfair advantage. My height, short 

by human standards, is of little 

consequence ~ he has claws and teeth 

to balance things in his favour. Only used in 

play or as love nips, I respect their 

potential to cause rips and tears to 

my soft flesh. We do understand each other.

“Never try to out stubborn a cat.”

~ Robert A. Heinlien, Time Enough for Love

To Write

Pens and pencils lying still 

do not dream of words they 

will write. Quiet til an empty 

page is to be filled. When a 

hand reaches out for a pen or 

a pencil to write the truth, 

    to write of other worlds, 

      to write a Christmas card, 

        to write a grocery list or 

       to doodle a clown’s face

“A pen is to me as a beak is to a hen.”

~ J.R.R.Tolkien

Christmas Clutter

Christmas comes but once a year, 

and so does Christmas clutter! 

Boxes and bags evicted from 

basements, attics or closets 

disrupt the flow of ordinary. 

With them may come a tag-a-long 

musty dust from that year alone 

in the dark. Taking up space on 

floor, tables and counters until 

cherished decorations are all in 

place, any attempt at organization 

seems hidden in the chaos of tissue, 

ornaments of many colours, sizes and 

shapes, tree lights filling corners and 

spare rooms until Christmas clutter is

repacked and stored til next year. 

What I know for sure is that result of 

all the glitter and shine is joyous. It sparkles the 

ordinary. For that short time, I wouldn’t trade it 

~ just have to work on my clutter anxiety.

“Gifts of time and love are surely the basic 

ingredients of a truly merry Christmas.”

~ Peg Bracken

Re-post: Snow and Silence

Wascana Lake, Regina, Sask November 2020

I walked last night with two friends. Lake Okanagan was still. It was -7C.

Lights lined the waterfront 

and climbed through the city 

spread into the hills.

Snow fell delicately 

crystalled white flakes 

against a darkened sky. 

A light breeze persuaded 

these sparklets of ice to 

slip sideways through 

dried leaves and drifting

golden willow branches.

Veils of steam rose in

fine clouds that hovered

inches from the lake’s

glassy black surface.

Crunching, matched footsteps of 

three bundled up women

broke through snow and silence,

covered ears and crisp footsteps 

quieted any words wandering away

on puffs of breath into the snow drift.

An ever faithful flock of ducks huddled

 ~ warm to warm ~ green and brown heads 

tucked under shining wings out of the cold.

Water blocks stared at the marina ~ 

glossy, black and empty ~ 

spaces beside the dock

where few boats wintered,

blanketed with snow and

resting in the stillness.

I walked last night with two friends. 

Lake Okanagan was still.

It was -7C.

“Silence is a source of great strength.”

~ Lao Tzu

Author’s note:  Snow fell as silently today in Regina, but evoked the same emotions as this poem from Kelowna, Dec. 13, 2000. Such a silent snow fall is gentle and kind.