My life is construction. It has narrowed to this singular point. Obvious to the outsider is the construction on Ludington Street:

An image of an excavator removing the sidewalk in front of the bookstore, as seen through the front windows — Hey, I was using that

A large whole in the sandy soil where Ludington street used to be, with an excavator next to it actively digging it out — Good thing my car has four-wheel drive

But Michigan’s spring construction fever permeates us inside and out:

An interior photo of the bookstore, with plastic drop cloths protecting the walls, with scaffolding set up next to the walls

Even at home, I have no respite

A photo of a torn-up bathroom, with a hole in the floor where a toilet should be — This is the work of a thief both skilled and diabolical

With a certain structural irony, construction so often encompasses acts of deconstruction as well. But this deconstruction was going to happen eventually without humans enacting it. Our water service line was going to break, our wall was going to crumble, our toilet was going to leak (more). Construction’s deconstruction only brings the bill forward, one that if not paid soon we would have to pay with interest.

And in its midst, we are heartened to glimpse of the end of things

A half-finished mural on the upper half of an interior wall in the bookstore

We look forward to showing off Lauren Hovland’s finished mural later this summer. But in the meantime, come by the store and see the work-in-progress! Even with a giant hole in front of our store, we’re still open for most of our regular hours (although we will be closed this Friday, May 29th, for a holy day observance). Just come in through the back/side door to observe the awe of progress!

A small, hand-painted sign stuck in the ground behind the Canterbury Book Store that reads "Canterbury Books"