Misadventures of the Monster Librarian

I found William Fitzsimmons when I was in grad school and his mellow tunes definitely got me through some tense days. Though he's on my iPod, I had sorta forgotten about W.F. for a while there until the other day when I was hanging out with Jersey Shore (a new guy at work) and wouldn't you know it--he just discovered William Fitzsimmons, so today we listened to his new album Gold in the Shadow all morning in the Kitchen. And I also learned that William Fitzsimmons is playing in Northampton this coming weekend...and the tickets are RIDICULOUSLY cheap. I think we're going. I love Katy Perry's "I kissed a girl," but I may almost love William Fitzimmons cover as much or more!

Sustainability Definition: McDonald's vs a New York Chef | Friend of the Farmer I love the blog Friend of the Farmer. I appreciated his recent posting. Wanted to share it!

This week has been so busy. I have been constantly going going going and feeling exhausted. I am not sleeping very well or very much and am wanting nothing more than a day off in my own house to sleep and sleep and sleep, but as B2 still hasn't heard back from the contractor who's supposed to look over my cabin , FAT CHANCE! But, while feeling frustrated about that, I am still feeling so grateful for my friends putting up with me and am trying to focus on the positive, like how I am enjoying couch surfing between three houses--an opportunity which was afforded to me because of this tree business. I stayed with uber pregnant M and the girls M & S Tuesday - Thursday nights this week while N was away. It was really nice to hang out with M and have the nights to ourselves after the girls were asleep; to chat about the Farm and our lives before the Farm. We spent some more time together Friday afternoon, driving out to an appointment in Northampton, meeting up with N there. It

Being held can mean many things. At the Farm we sometimes say things like, "so and so is being held on such and such team." To be held, to be supported, to get what we need, to offer something. Sometimes being held means moving in with friends when a tree falls on your house; spending hours feeling heard; being complimented, told that you are good at what you do, reminded of struggles and where you came from. I just found this song, "In your arms," by Jason Zerbman and think it's the perfect end to today, to the work week.

Today in the Kitchen one of the guys posed the question, "if you received $5,000,000, how would you spend it?" Of course we all had similar answers like: pay off student loans buy a new car give some money to family travel donate to non-profits But, now that I have been thinking about it more--bored out of my mind at the Reference desk--I've come up with a wish list of other things I'd buy too. I love fantasizing about having money. I also like fantasizing about spontaneous dance numbers in places like the Library. Tonight I am imagining doing "Forget you," (or the other version) by Cee-Lo. I didn't even realize it until I started listening to the lyrics again, but it does feel apropos. Julia's kitchen Other things I want: Julia Child's stove copious amounts of body butter and mint julep lip balm from Savannah Bee a set of All-Clad Copper Core 6000-7SS pots  a really cool sink like this (I guess the pots, stove and sink wa

I have been away from writing, at least the blog, for a bit. More soon from me, but here's something from a favorite: "Why I Wake Early "   Hello, sun in my face. Hello, you who made the morning and spread it over the fields and into the faces of the tulips and the nodding morning glories, and into the windows of, even, the miserable and the crotchety— best preacher that ever was, dear star, that just happens to be where you are in the universe to keep us from ever-darkness, to ease us with warm touching, to hold us in the great hands of light— good morning, good morning, good morning. Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness. -- Mary Oliver  

Duke Humphries, Ole Shillelagh's, Kennedy's Pub, Four Green Fields, Patrick O'Ryans--all pubs which I haunted in my younger days. I think fondly back to those days, and today especially, miss the pants off those nights: sitting around drinking beer with friends; rehashing the week and talking about papers; making plans for places we'd go to together, things we'd see; just being together. The soundtrack to my young twenties definitely would include many a funny Irish song, including this one. Happy St. Patty's Day everybody!

What is Frodo doing? Everybody wants to be Irish on St. Patrick's Day! Ok, maybe not really Irish, but pretend to be Irish. Here in the United States we like to celebrate St. Patrick's Day every year by wearing green, drinking copious amounts of beer (also preferably green) until we get drunk, wearing green t-shirts (the really hipster looking ones made my Old Navy are preferable) and shamrocks, making leprechaun jokes all day and doing jigs...It's more than a little sad that these are the things we associate the Irish with. So, Happy St. Patty's Day to everyone!   Blarney , shillelaghs, leprechaun, GUINNESS! There, I said it. I'm done. If I were back home for St. Patty's Day plans for tonight would have already been made at least a week ago, and we would have already gone to the party this past weekend at the Ole' Shillelagh in Detroit (near Greektown, not too far from my old stomping grounds at Wayne State). If you live in Detroit or anywhere

Children's Book Week is from May 2-May 8 this year. What's Children's Book Week, you ask? Well, according to the Children's Book Council, "It all began with the idea that children's books can change lives. In 1913, Franklin K. Matthiews, the librarian of the Boy Scouts of America, began touring the country to promote higher standards in children's books. He proposed creating a Children's Book Week, which would be supported by all interested groups: publishers, booksellers, and librarians. Mathiews enlisted two important allies: Frederic G. Melcher, the visionary editor of Publishers Weekly , and Anne Carroll Moore, the Superintendent of Children's Works at the New York Public Library and a major figure in the library world. With the help of Melcher and Moore, in 1916 the American Booksellers Association and the American Library Association cooperated with the Boy Scouts in sponsoring a Good Book Week. In 1944, the newly-establis

<br><br><br><br><br><br><br>&nbsp;videos I am always amazed with the videos that people make--this is M. Ward's "Chinese Translation."

What is the "ides of March," all about anyway?  Well, "ides," harkens to the middle of a Roman month, which in turn calls to mind the events around the assasination of Julius Caesar. Historians believe that the "ides of March" expression is traced back to the events on March 15, 44BC, when Julius Caesar was murdered. The murder was a double crossing of epic acclaim, as Caesar was betrayed by dozens of noblemen, and even Marcus Brutus, Caesar's own apprentice. Shakespeare--"borrowing" from Plutarch's version of the famous scene--wrote about J. Caesar's demise, and in doing so immortalized the line, "Beware the ides of March." Is anyone else as impressed as me at all the lines that we use from Shakespeare without always being aware of it!? Caesar: Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue shriller than all the music Cry "Caesar!" Speak, Caesar is turn'd to hear. Soothsayer: Beware

She & Him, You Really Got a Hold On Me, MTV Canada Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward are She & Him . I love this cover of "You really got a hold on me.

Thanks M for knowing I would LOVE this. "Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve. Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow. She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare,

In losing someone I revert back to what I know best: I write; I read, I read, I read, especially poetry; I spend time with those dearest to me, comforted by the laughter that they can pull from me, bubbling it to my surface; I revel in nature, listening to every snapped twig, every bird call, every wind-stirred leaf, no matter the minutiae of it. I have been spending a lot of time reading and rereading Mary Oliver's poetry; Alice Walker's new book of poems, Hard Times Require Furious Dancing ; Seamus Heaney's new book of poems, Human Chain . I also just discovered (and I'm still not sure how I've never seen this before) The Sun (magazine.) I sent an email to all of my relatives after my Auntie Lou died. In the email I shared how I felt about losing her, how I wish we had had more time--things that people say when they feel a void. But I also shared happier memories of her, beginning a domino effect of shared memories amongst us; hearing others' stories, le

Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle Everything I do is stitched with its color. ~W.S. Merwin, "Separation" Gone - flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart. ~Alfred Tennyson If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden.     ~ Claudia Ghandi Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night.  I miss you like hell.    ~ Edna St Vincent Millay I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long.  If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night.   ~ Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbes  

We lost my dear favorite Auntie Louise yesterday. I am fighting sadness by thinking of her sitting somewhere with my Dad, drinking a beer and talking about the good 'ole days.  I found comfort again in these words, which my Auntie wrote to me after I lost my Dad, ironic that I find them again and they are about how I move on without her:   "People say 'keep a stiff upper lip,' try talking like that! My greatest prayer and hope for all of you is that you will continue to live!  Live life to the fullest! You don't have to dig a hole and pull it in after you. Do something amazing for yourself, with your life and or with someone!"   And loss always makes me think of this poem: "Funeral Blues" Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the me

I know I just shared Laura Marling's "Ghost," but "New Romantic," is also wonderful. Also great on days like today are Mary Oliver poems. Wild Geese You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, hars

<br><br><br>idf March 8th was International Women's Day 2011--better late than never.

It's Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lent season.  TSO has been emailing this story to me for years now, a tradition of sorts, something I look forward to; the tradition continues as now I too send it out each year to all of my friends and close family.  This year I also share it with you. Taken from  Jacob the Baker  by Noah benShea. "...It was Mr. Gold who counted time and eventually spoke first. 'Jacob, where do you find the strength to carry on in life?' 'Life is often heavy only because we attempt to carry it,' said Jacob.  'But, I do find a strength in the ashes.' 'In the ashes?' asked Mr. Gold. 'Yes,' said Jacob, with a confirmation that seemed to have traveled a  great distance. 'You see, Mr. Gold, each of us is alone.  Each of us is in the great  darkness of our ignorance.  And each of us is on a journey. 'In the process of our journey, we must bend to build a fire for  light, and warmth, and food

"i thank You God for this most amazing" i thank You God for this most amazing day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything wich is natural which is infinite which is yes (i who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth day of life and love and wings:and of the gay great happening illimitably earth) how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any-lifted from the no of all nothing-human merely being doubt unimaginable You? (now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened) e.e. cummings

Six years ago I received a phone call telling me that my best friend L and husband K were welcoming their second daughter into this world. Six years ago. It feels like forever since then. I called to wish Audrey a "happy birthday," this weekend and briefly chatted with her and bestie L in the midst of a birthday party. Hanging up I was left alone with my thoughts; what will the rest of Audrey's life hold for her? The first six years of a human life is rife with so much growth, development, movement and change...and then what? As I pondered this I began to think of the last six years of my own life. What was I doing six years ago? Six years ago at this time of year I was freaking out about grad school, I was going, right? What was I doing with my life? Where should I apply? But for what programs? At that point in my life I had decided to make a go as a writer and apply for MFA programs. But where? The Midwest, where I hailed from? Or the East coast? Be nearer family agai

I have been going through a poetry reading phase again--this usually hits me about this time of year, when the white has become oppresive and certain days' temperatures trick us into thinking of spring. Mummy Dearest let me tag along with her the other day when she picked up Lil Fish and her niece M from Pre-K; one of those beautiful, sunny winter days. One of the other parents said to Mummy that this is the time of winter which she likes most because it starts to feel hopeful: it is getting warmer and the sap is running. It made me smile to think of the tapped trees, buckets hanging under spigots and running sap as a hopeful sign of spring, but a truer one I couldn't think of. So, I sit and am hopeful. I am hopeful that spring really is close at hand. I am hopeful that my seeds arrive soon as I am eager to feel the beginnings of life through their rectangled packaging. I am hopeful. "White-Eyes" In winter all the singing is in the tops of the trees where t

Harper Lee and Truman Capote I just read this article . I am so excited for Harper Lee, Joyce Carol Oates, Wendell Berry and Meryl Streep--among others--who are set to receive the National Medal of Art! "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view--until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it." ~ Harper Lee,  To Kill a Mockingbird        “If you are a writer you locate yourself behind a wall of silence and no matter what you are doing, driving a car or walking or doing housework you can still be writing, because you have that space.” ~ Joyce Carol Oates  Harper Lee and hottie Gregory Peck (Peck played Atticus Finch, movie verion of To Kill a Mockingbird)   "When despair for the world grows in me, and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be -- I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds

I have heard as much weird shit working as a librarian as I have working in the mental health field. No lie. Sometimes patrons feel the need to share a little piece of their personal history, reach out to someone else, try to connect, TMI it just a little. In a less than five minute conversation tonight these are some of the interesting gems which I learned about one of our patrons: hasn't been in a library in years turned off phone and internet at home to force herself to leave the house grand kids are troubled, so she wants to read a book to, "not knock some sense into them," but rather, "hit them with love." bought $2000 worth of beads, not the cheap kind...I mean some cheap ones...but a lot of silver and gold nice ones...she put an ad on Craiglist to find someone to work on beading things with her and no one ever responded..."Oh, I love your necklace!" (That was a particularly great stream of conscious! Look out Virginia Woolf!) wan