Zoo

L and I took some time away from the conference in Columbia last month to visit the zoo. (Not that we couldn't have seen just as much wild behaviour among our fellow conference-goers, but the animals at the zoo were considerably cuter.)

Why is it that goats are such photogenic creatures? I'm not terribly fond of them as a general rule, but they do know how to pose.


We also saw the biggest gator I have ever seen, along with a cooperative grizzly who walked veeerrryyy slowly closer so that I could get his best side.

And of course, no trip to the zoo is complete without several minutes spent trying to figure out how to smuggle a koala home. No luck this trip, but one of these days...

Merry Whatever

Never mind how horrifying I think it is that half the county had its Christmas decorations up before Thanksgiving - as it is now after Thanksgiving, the library has joined the trend and is sticking red and gold ornaments on everything that will hold still long enough. After much discussion, we determined that the ancient and now rather bedraggled tree for the reading area wasn't big enough, so D and J headed out on a tree-finding mission and returned with a nine-foot one, complete with fake pinecones. So I spent an hour this afternoon sticking little hooks on more ornaments than you would think a tree could hold, including (appropriately enough) little tiny books.

Why is it that the one person who doesn't celebrate the holiday is the one who has to make the decisions like "how big a tree should we get," and "should it be pre-lit," and "should we add the garland, or does that just make it look tacky"? Surely there must be someone else around here better qualified for this job than I am...

Harry Potter Party

We are finally joining the trend and hosting a Harry Potter party this weekend, as a sort of early Halloween celebration. D and I have had a grand time shopping for decorations and favors and figuring out just how much junk food thirty 'tweens can consume in four hours. We have cauldrons full of candy and glow-in-the-dark necklaces and temporary tattoos and plastic Harry glasses, and games and puzzles and plans for a costume contest...

Of course, the amount of fun we're having planning this makes me worry. (Because it wouldn't be me if I didn't.) If we're enjoying this, are the kids going to? Or are we going to have thirty sulky twelve-year-olds stuck in a dark room looking at a movie they're all seen twenty times, and wondering why these stupid adults won't just let them stuff their faces with pizza and then go home. And possibly making obnoxious comments from the corners and throwing popcorn at each other.

Since this is the first event we've ever done for kids in this age group, I suppose I should expect that we're going to make mistakes. But on the other hand I'm afraid that if we screw this one up we won't get another chance, because the word will go out that we're a bunch of boring old ladies without a clue. And there is so little for kids to do around here. There isn't even cow tipping, despite the vast quantity of cows, since getting to the cows requires transportation, and twelve-year-olds in the country don't have that. I want to give them a chance to have some fun, and to escape their parents the way we did when we were that age by meeting friends at the mall or the movies, and also remind them that occasionally the library can be a pretty cool place.

Which is a heck of a lot to have riding on a party involving kids in funny glasses and grown ups in really big pointy hats.

The Librarian's Workout

D and I have decided to write an exercise book. We're going to call it the Librarian's Workout. Among other things, it will include:

• Hauling boxes of books from one end of a building to another.
• When that gets boring, hauling piles of books without the boxes. Preferable large and awkward piles.
  
• Moving shelf-loads of books from the bottom of an eight-foot shelf to the very top, and then moving the books from a top shelf to the very bottom.
  
• Running up and down aisles with an armload of books, looking for the spot they belong while trying not to be away from the desk for more than thirty seconds.
• Escorting demanding patrons from one section to another, and then another, and another...
• Nodding and smiling at the demanding patrons while escorting them (this move for advanced librarians only).
• Beating one's head against the wall. Hard.

I realize that this job isn't as physically demanding as, say, construction work. But anyone who thinks that librarians just sit around and read all day is sadly deluded. By the time we were done setting up for the book sale last Friday, every one of us had aching muscles and assorted bruises and bumps. Weeding can give me sore legs and shoulders for days. And I burn more calories nodding and smiling at idiots than I would if I went out and bought a treadmill.

Which is probably a good thing, since some days the only way we can get through it without screaming is by the judicious application of chocolate. Sometimes in alarmingly large quantities.

Goodbye, Baby

I did it. I sold the Packard. So I am now packard-less girl, I suppose.

It's off to a good home with one of my several sets of adopted grandparents from the Packard Club, and J is about as excited as a kid with a new puppy at Christmas. Which is good to see, and I am glad someone is going to do the work it needs and keep it cared for.

But that didn't make it any easier to watch it rocket off down the road with someone else behind the wheel.

Hmmm

Why is it that the slowest driver on the road, the one who has fifteen cars stuck behind him going twenty miles an hour under the speed limit, always has at least three NASCAR decals on his rear window?

Just another baffling aspect of life in the south, I guess.

Things I have done recently that are not in my job description

• wash lettuce
• choose upholstery fabric that no one can object to
• move chairs and tables
• repair chairs and tables
• find a stuffed rat
• escort a Big Red Dog to story time
• tell a member of the prison work crew how to get a library card
• debate the merits of various heads for a scarecrow
• act like a jumping bean
• care for a (deeply perturbed) box turtle for seven days
• arrange for the removal of a petrified lizard (no, I was not going to do it myself)
• carry a dragon through three states in twenty-four hours
• bake more cakes than you can shake a stick at
• make friends with local clergy, unreconstructed rednecks, fourteen-year-olds, and convicted felons
• bully someone into cutting an access door to a crawl space, supporting a library policy, and finishing electrical work that should have been done twenty years ago
• learn about manga, wikis, yeast-free recipes, teen psychology, the Fourth Circuit Court, feral cats, storytelling techniques, county government, and how to spend $2500 on DVDs in forty-five minutes