Misadventures of the Monster Librarian

This week I had the opportunity to chat with some friends I don't get to talk with as much as we'd like to because, well, life happens; though time passes I feel as close to these folks as I did when we shared jobs, houses, a community. Upon reflecting on my many friendships I decided: There is something so magical about friendships that transcend great distances and years. I have made so many mistakes (and still do) in this life, but my friends cannot be counted among those. Walking out the door to head to Columbus, then Indiana and camping bound. Have a great weekend!

Though I think for the first time, in all the time since discovering the Farm (over 10 years ago), I don't want to go back, but rather forward, I still miss it terribly at this time of year; miss it in that awful yearning way, the same way I miss my parents home of my childhood, now someone else's. I miss it in the spring too. The Farm in its seasonal vestments harkens me back like family, calling me back at it's dying time and for it's birthing season too. I spoke with TSO yesterday and nearly wept at his voice, so homesick for the place and for my other friends there too, and for times gone; the uniqueness of the place. I am looking for the Farm in our autumn here, and though not finding it entirely, am contenting myself in the brilliance of the crisp colors, the blustery days, the painfully beautiful sunrises, and the most splendid and silvery moons. See that wisp of a  moon? "My November Guest" My ...

For all of its' flaws, Facebook is great on your birthday. I woke up to a way-too-early-alarm-clock and the pinging of Facebook updates. Through blurry eyes and whiskers--Hemmy decided to wake me up by laying on my neck--I read the first of many birthday messages. Instant gratification. I felt loved. Aside from the fact that I had to go to work today, and couldn't stay in my pajamas all day, it was a good day: the ladies were sweet as pie and bought me lunch; I managed to get all my annual work evaluations done (DREAD OVER! WOO HOO!); I responded to the 80+ emails that had accumulated over my long weekend; I got caught up on paperwork, and by golly, my desk is cleared off! A good day, indeed! Now I'm home and getting ready for a birthday dinner with Grumpy and Prairie Dawn. Grumpy is a townie who I've recently begun hanging with; he's one of those slightly-chip-on-his-shoulder-grouchy-heart-of-gold-guys, like Luke on Gilmore Girls, or Nick on New Girl, or Grump...

I love this song. And Josephine Baker's voice! This song has been stuck in my head since 1a.m. this morning and it's still there. It makes me want to get into a convertible and drive under a summer sun down a lane in Tuscany. Specific, right? In no time I will be driving toward Cleveland with my sun roof open and this blaring on the radio...guess it's the closest I can get to Tuscany.

“Coming back is the thing that enables you to see how all the dots in your life are connected, how one decision leads you another, how one twist of fate, good or bad, brings you to a door that later takes you to another door, which aided by several detours--long hallways and unforeseen stairwells--eventually puts you in the place you are now.” --Anne Patchett Anyone who has truly left home--ventured out into the world and tasted it; lived away , with enough distance between you and that place to forget the view of the horizon; gone long enough to remember what the city or town or village looked like--will understand the nostalgia of going back. The sadness and sinking when the city looks less like it did in your years, and more like every other city in America, suffering from that same disease which grabs hold and spreads chain restaurants and chain stores like sores. Gone are many of the Mom & Pop family owned stores, replaced by those where they pretend to know you, asking ...

Forever Young - Youth Group When I worked at the Farm I used my iPod every day at work; there was always music, always a soundtrack. I miss those early mornings opening the Kitchen, sometimes alone, sometimes with others; I miss the warmth of the oven, it's hum almost a part of the music from my iPod. As I sorted and packed this past weekend I had hours of uninterrupted music; time spent forming a new soundtrack. The song which has stuck with me into this, my second to last week, is this one. Enjoy! Also, welcome to new follower Deanna!

I am heading to Michigan again today after work, for a summer party, but really just a grasping chance at trying to see someone whom I'm sure won't even be in town for the weekend anyway. Life really is a maneuvering game, no? I am riding up with a friend, her boyfriend, and another one of her friends; feeling in a funk and nostalgic and so glad that I packed Sedaris' Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim and a full iPod o' music--I can either giggle to myself or fall asleep to my nostalgic mix. Think the nostalgia is because today is my bro A2's birthday--HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Brother! I love you--and August also marks my Dad's birthday...*sigh* I miss him so. So, as I think back on our time in Michigan and shoot north, I will listen to this, one of my favorite Simon & Garfunkel songs: Homeward Bound . Happy weekend all!

It is almost 2am and I can't fall asleep. I am not sure why I am so WIDE AWAKE, but while I wait for sleep, I am thinking about nostalgia. In fact, I have been thinking about nostalgia a lot lately. I had mentioned that fact to Mummy Dearest a while back and she said that I should blog about it, so Mummy, this is for you. Dictionary.com defines nostalgia as: a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time. I am not entirely sure what has sparked this recent need to delve into thoughts of my former life; maybe it's Dad being gone and me missing him, who knows? But I'm there. Stuck in the middle of it. Embracing my nostalgic-ed-ness as of late has meant delving into the familiar and strange in a variety of ways: Roomie M and I decided to watch Little House on the Prarie from Season I on. We are almost done ...

Another new year and I have nothing but good feelings for it. Things can only look up after last year. And the year ends in an even number so that's a good thing. I feel I have been a thousand miles away from my online community lately. The visit to the farm was good, though I confess I was a little internally restless, which paired with the flu bug I caught while I was there, made for an odd visit. Visiting with friends was good and balm to my soul. New Year's Eve B1, B2, and I made it safely to the farm around 7pm due to an earlier start from Buffalo than expected, good traffic, and great weather. The three of us, Amos & CJ, Mummy Dearest & Hubby, and Nevada celebrated a--for the most part--quiet New Year's Eve exchanging Christmas presents, munching on Mummy's hilarious hors d'œuvres (some variation of these), drinking (Amos brought back some sneaky liqueur from Bolivia and I brought Michigan beers for the boys' Christmas presents, which consequ...

In my attempt to look at everyone's page that has commented on my page (I love this game!), I was checking Nabeel's page out today. He had this really great, short and sweet, reflection called: "A Sunflower of mangoes" (posted on July 3), where he reminsced about eating and sharing fruit as a kid; the idea of how some things can remind us of a particular time. I thought about that a lot too today. My friend Lisa and I talk about how certain activities, like eating, can be so communal. And reading Nabeel's blog confirmed that maybe other people feel that way too. I thought back to my farm days; cold winter afternoons spent indoors playing cards or talking. I remember one particular afternoon where I sat around a table with my friends Christy and Gary enjoying oranges. We ripped back orange peels to expose white underbellies, skins to protect the meaty flesh inside. We would pause in our conversations, just long enough to bite and tear into the sweetest oranges tha...

Feeling nostalgic...or something today. Heard this song and it made me think of a different time in my life. The first time I heard this it was playing on TSOldtimers "Sad Songs," CD, in my car, and we were on the way to pick up my brother from the airport. He was coming for a short weekend in Massachusetts to visit the farm, and then we were going to embark on a road trip back to our parents house in Michigan (through MA., New York state, and Canada). I remember feeling sligtly homesick for Michigan when I heard this song, and even glad at the prospect of going home for a spell. Though hearing it again today I realized that I was homesick for Massachusetts. Thinking of the idea of home, I managed to find this quote. Too true. "The country I come from Is called the Midwest" ~Bob Dylan Here is a link for the video of Half Acre , sung by Hem.