Harvesting the ArtsThe art side of Bean Books spent last Saturday in King’s Square as part of Fusion’s Harvesting the Arts festival. Thanks to Fusion for a great job in organizing and hosting the event!

Harvesting the Arts


Wednesday, September 2nd – Saturday, September 5th

In honour of the jackhammer moving out of earshot, we’re having a sale to celebrate the (near) completion of the Princess Street Construction. From Wednesday, Sept 2 – Saturday, Sept 5, buy one book and get the second half-price!

Sarah's mugIt’s not my fault that Pledge looks remarkably like dish soap.

Blackberry Angst

blackberriesConfession: I opened the store this morning, then I was bored, then I scarfed down an entire box of blackberries. Now I feel sick.

You know those scenarios in your life where no matter how often you muck up, you make the same mistake over and over again? Case-in-point. Berry over-indulgence.  A problem I have had since I was three years old. I need a bloody support group.

Wednesday, August 5. 2:13 pm: My brother parades through the door, launches his gym bag behind the counter (go ahead, make yourself at home), and proceeds to work on his handstands in the middle of the store. ‘Knock it off,’ I say, ‘a customer might come in.’

2:15 pm: Customer walks in. I groan. Takes one look at the 6ft2 upside down teenager balancing precariously in front of her, and hastily backs out through the door.

2:21 pm: I realize I’m out of red paint. ‘Caleb,’ I say, ‘watch the store for me. I have go do a couple errands.’  He groans. ‘Fine, so long as you bring me something.’

2:23 pm: Text from Caleb. ‘i’m bored,’ it reads. I roll my eyes.

2:25 pm: Text from Caleb. ‘where the heck are you. hurry up.’  I left four minutes ago. Brilliant.  My brother obviously has problems with the concept of time and space.

2:26 pm: I am purchasing some art supplies at Eastward Sales on Union, and remember my brother’s request to bring him something, so I look around for the cheapest thing in the store. I settle on a $.60 carpenter’s pencil.

Caleb's drawing2:35 pm: I arrive back at the store. Caleb immediately peels.

2:37 pm: I discover his work of art on the computer’s paint program, which he has unhelpfully set as the desktop. Sheer genius, right there. I make a mental note to forgo any further $.60 gifts in the future.

Urban DeliUrban Deli just opened at 68 King Street. And it’s brilliant. My sage advice: go, and go often, because it’s so good.

I promised to treat my brother to dinner there sometime next week. Why, you ask? Why would I take my coffee-mooching, javelin-toting little brother out to dinner, and actually pay for his food? Especially given that he’s capable of consuming vast quantities?


I was a little peeved at my brother on the weekend and I threw the tv remote at his head. And I have deadly aim when I’m harpy-esque mad.

So I’m taking him to Urban Deli. And their delightful food will erase all memory of the lump on his head.

My brother in the TJFact: The Telegraph Journal loves my brother. Obsessively. Every second day there is an article with an eight-inch colour photo – and javelin javelin javelin. Come on, don’t they know I’m way more photogenic?

So, like a good sister, I posted the newspaper clippings on the wall behind the counter at the store. Until, one day last week, my brother squawks:

‘How come your articles are all laminated and framed and nice? Mine are just pasted on the wall! They’re fading! You should have them framed.’

(Did I mention he was the baby of the family?)

My highly mature response:

‘Bite me.’

TreeAnd in another highly mature move, specifically designed to irritate my beloved sibling, I moved his articles behind the tree. See photo. Yup. Take that.

But the problem is that now I have to drag the tree away whenever I want to brag about him (or threaten someone – ‘yeah don’t mess with me or I call him, that guy with the spear’).