Misadventures of the Monster Librarian

So much stuff to catch up on--life has been happening and I feel like I've been tottering from one thing to the next like a drunk toddler. The long and the short of it: My uncle died from cancer last week, so had to take some personal time to go home. Came back in time for a conference last week, only to head to South Carolina last Friday for some family time we've been planning on for over half a year (first time we've had Mom, all the sibs and spouses, and nieces and nephews together since my Dad died; my sis-in-law Dayna and niece Savannah weren't part of the family back then!) Came back to work Monday to catch up on so many things (computer ordering happened while I was on vacation, now dealing with all the fun things that go with that!) Anyway, I'm back, much I want to write about on a hundred things, but for now, as promised : 1st GRADE RECOMMENDED BOOKS Picture books to read aloud Amos and Boris, by William Steig – also Doctor Desoto and Sylveste...

Author Ray Bradbury passed away a couple of weeks back and LHB blogged about him a little bit  here , thought I would share, and also post some quotes from Bradbury. (I love this reading Library History Buff's blog, because it always makes me proud of libraries and being a librarian). "Libraries raised me. I don't believe in colleges and universities. I believe in libraries, because most students don't have any money. When I graduated from high school, it was during the Depression and we had no money. I couldn't go to college, so I went to the library three days a week for 10 years."   "I know you've heard it a thousand times before. But it's true - hard work pays off. If you want to be good, you have to practice, practice, pratice. If you don't love something, then don't do it."   "If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, beca...

In others' losses and sadness we see our own; this morning I am praying for my friend Mike as he mourns the death of his father; I am thinking back to my own fathers' death. I am sitting in silence and reflecting on those very dark days after my Dad's death when I found little true consolations, until I found C.S. Lewis' A Grief Observed. As I sit and think and pray and hope for peace for my friend, I reread passages from Lewis: "Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief." - C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed and reread this old favorite: "On the beach at night" On the beach at night, Stands a child with her father, Watching the east, the autumn sky. Up through the darkness, While ravening cloud...

This poem felt appropriate today as we remember the death of my Dad, 4 years ago today. After a death we become silent somehow, shadowy, present but mute. I remember the first few days after my Dad died as a blur; the first few weeks as a haze; the first few months me as a mindless machine, sleepless, constantly working on papers--finishing grad school that semester was a blessing, so much to occupy my mind. Though today I am no longer steeped in my grief, I find that loss is a cloak that is occasionally thrown over the shoulders, much to the surprise of the wearer. I still miss my Dad so much, so acutely some days that I feel sick to my stomach. So, today I will listen for him: in my brothers' laugh, over a phone, hundreds of miles away; in the words of our song . I will see him in the fall leaves' brilliant colors and in the richness of the Farm at this time of year. I will think of him in the words my Auntie Louise sent to me after his death: "People say 'keep a...

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...

J.D. Salinger, recluse, author of much--most notably The   Catcher in the Rye-- died this week at age 91. All I keep thinking is that I wish I would have read Salinger in high school and maybe I would have appreciated it more/differently than I did when I read it in my early/mid twenties. Here are some links to interesting articles post and pre Salinger's death. New York Times, Salinger's NY S.J. Gilman's reflection on NPR A funny reflection on Salinger, which a friend, Bill Shein wrote back in 2004 here . This is the dialogue in the book which I most remember. Funny how some things stay with us for a long time. Holden: "You know that song, 'If a body catch a body comin' through the rye'?..." Phoebe: "It's 'If a body meet a body coming through the rye'!... It's a poem. By Robert Burns." Holden: "Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of littl...

Our beloved R passed away this morning, just 4 mos. shy of her 100th birthday. I heard the news from my roomie Rugby Girl and have felt so melancholy since. I am not sad for R. I am glad that she is finally going to be able to rest. I feel a loss for our Community, since she has been part of it for over 80 years, but really my sadness is selfish. It is funny how the death of someone can take us back into the pain and sadness of the death of another. I am always surprised at how my Dad's death (just over 2 year ago) can still evoke such anguish for me. I lay here in front of our fireplace missing my Dad, and thinking about all the things we miss out on without him being here. And I think too of our feisty R and what Community will look like without her. Death is a funny thing. I turn again to this, a favorite poem, I've used on my blog before. It really speas to something so sincere in my mind. Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone Stop all the clocks, cut off th...

dying is fine) but Death ?o baby i wouldn't like Death if Death were good: for when (instead of stopping to think) you begin to feel of it, dying 's miraculous why? be cause dying is perfectly natural; perfectly putting it mildly lively (but Death is strictly scientific & artificial & evil & legal) we thank thee god almighty for dying (forgive us, o life! the sin of Death e.e. cummings Last week we watched as the 2nd anniversary of my Dad's death--two years!? Really? Where has the time gone--came and went and it was hard and there were tears and sadness, but also laughter and funny memories too. That's good. Death, like art, should imitate life sometimes, no? So, thought I would share this lovely e.e. cummings poem, as he is one of my favorites, and always has such insightful ways to make me think.

Walter Cronkite has died. The New York Times had a good piece on this fascinating man. Though Mr. Cronkite stopped giving us the news when I was still a baby I understand the profound loss of such a character, considering today's hail storm of media. It seems in today's world we are hit from so many different sides by so many different voices; Mr. Cronkite offered a news reporters perspective to the worlds events that were happening around him while not being afraid to show the emotion that he felt: JFK's assassination, the Vietnam War, Watergate and the first Americans landing on the news. So, today I celebrate the passing of another interesting person. " In seeking truth you have to get both sides of a story." ~Walter Cronkite

I went to a funeral home last night. A church acquaintance from my former life--what seems like five hundred years ago--committed suicide Friday morning. She was 28 years old. And then College K's Grandfather passed away Saturday night. College K said that she thinks that death comes in three, with these two current deaths and my Dad's--two months ago this week. I don't know if College K is right or not, but either way I wanted something to cheer us up, so I decided to make a list, and then it turned into a playlist. I like making lists--no I love making lists. And I love that movie High Fidelity with John Cusak. And I love that he makes "Top __ Lists. So, here as I sit at the end of my Masters, I would like to look back on the music I enjoyed this past year. If it is true that death comes in threes, well, then music should come in fourteens. So, College K, I dedicate these to you, links to fourteen of my favorite songs of '07. ENJOY! (Sorry I couldn't po...

"It is hard to have patience with people who say 'There is no death' or 'Death doesn't matter.' There is death. And whatever is matters. And whatever happens has consequences, and it and they are irrevocable and irreversible. You might as well say that birth doesn't matter. ~C.S. Lewis Death teaches us anger, frustration, an unconsolable sadness, what an inpenetrable hallow feels like, but Death too teaches us all humility-the ability to cry in front of others, dignity, and an appreciation for family bonds (that seem to tighten) and friendship. I was fortunate to be out east at the farm when I recieved the call telling me that my Dad had died, and in that vertigo of anguish I was surrounded by 6 of the dearest friends I could ever wish on anyone; I was physically and emotionally held. Mummy Dearest left her beautiful, wonderful children and Hubby for 5 days to come home with me and take care of me and help me say goodbye to my Dad. And the love from f...