the fall of the public library

shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

if we listen closely, we can hear the sound of yet another public institution crumbling. sadly, i work at a place that i have pretty accurately nicknamed The Titanic. i love working here. i love my customers. i love the library.

i've been in love with the library for a lifetime. i was a little girl checking out books with my mother in the 80s. we went to every program that the branch by our modest two-family flat offered. i celebrated halloween there making paiper-mache pumpkins and seeing the headless horseman for myself. the library was a wondrous place.

that wondrous place hired me to shelve the books. those books that i shelved led me to find buddhism, which offers me a place of solace. those same shelves called out to me one fall afternoon to try my hand at a Master's in librarianship. so i listened.

i found that librarianship merged my need for community service with my desire for a regular paycheck. nothing lavish, but a paycheck nonetheless. years have passed since that time. i've moved up the food chain to manage my own little corner of the library world and now the ass has fallen out of even that.

allegations of administrative corruption and misspent funding abound and staff members are faced with layoffs. what happened to that community hub that was so beloved to me? i feel like i am on the outside looking in as i see newspaper articles surface about my employer by the day. all i can do is wait and hope that enough people create enough fuss to say that we refuse to be asleep at the wheel when the library comes to a grinding halt.

Off to a Rough Start

Some mornings are harder than others. This morning was that morning for me. I awoke at 7 a.m. looking at my watch wishing it were 7 p.m. I got my hostile daughter up from her slumber only to discover that she was feeling much grumpier than usual. :( Then I -- pretty unskillfully I must admit -- got her dressed and fed.

It was rainy. Cold. Overall yucky, but we headed on to school and work. We listened to our favorite classical station along the way and somehow, the morning shifted. She confided that she just didn't feel like going because it was rainy. I confessed that I felt her pain, but reminded her that rainy days are good days, too. She laughed and we made our way into the school. She was so relieved to find her class playing inside this morning. :)

I headed away in search of coffee and to pay a much avoided bill and somehow, the combination of these two lifted my spirits, even in the rain. I made it to work and saw two classes of children and entertained them with dog stories. Somehow, the rain broke and once I made it to my first class of kids, I was rolling.

So remember the rain is just that: rain. There are still good days that happen to be rainy.

BMJ's amazing technicolor dream shawl

So,my daughter goes to Waldorf school. Love the school. Love the teachers. Love the change I see in my little one. Anyhow, every morning for the last month or so, I have been eyeing this beautiful, hand-knit, rainbow silk yarn shawl. It was displayed so temptingly in the display case nearest to her classroom. Every morning, there I was eyeballing it, willing to come home with me. So, I decided to save pennies from my retro paycheck at work to get it. I prepared for, wait for it, wait for it...

$600 or so.

A sizable chunk of my retro, but this annual auction is for her school, which is one of my favorite causes right now. Anyhow, it was looking good for me at the auction. My first bid was $200 and I was so grateful that it was part of the silent auction because the live auction folks have money much longer than mine.

So along come three other ladies. I was unwavering. One lady bid only once. Now we're down to three. Another lady bowed out around $450 or so. Now there are two.

This lady was feisty! But I am feistier. However, I had to keep reminding myself that this money was for my daughter's school. Not just about a purchase. So, here we were. My challenger went $500. I went $525 and she turned to me and said, "my husband said $500 was my limit." I had my game face on. Being single seems to have its advantages because at that moment my only limitation was the voice inside my own head. And at that exact moment, it didn't care about a limit. It simply said, "Get your shawl and quit playin'!"

My mind said that her declaration of her highest bid was a trick to get me to reveal my final number. I am no fool. My facial expression never faltered. As I stepped toward the table to bid, she bumped me with her hip. Still unswayed, I then bid $525. She frowned, snatched the pen at 20 seconds to go and went $550. She tried to even stand in front of the paper. I politely got her to move -- totally against her will-- and bid $600 in the final seconds.

I already knew what I would pay and that the hands that knit that lovely shawl had a hip librarian and mama like myself in me in mind for it. I am so happy that I got my beautiful shawl and supported Waldorf education simultaneously.

Step into Outlet, Already a Mistake

So, here we are back to reality from two days of play. I was at a conference and things are going as well as could be expected for the type of conference I was attending. My co-workers and I stopped to rest in our room during the break. First mistake.

Then, we looked at the schedule of workshops and instead of missing another boring keynote presenter, we were missing the main session that each of us was dying to attend. So, then, we flew down to the session only to discover, the guy was out of handouts, so instead of just sitting, what do we do?

Head to the Coach outlet! Second mistake.

After over an hour of shopping with the assistance of our new friend, Dorothy -- a Coach employee no less -- I came out over $300 lighter. (hanging head in shame). But, on the upside, where else could I have gotten a beautiful berry & purple patchwork like this for about $120? Hmm? Where? :D

The on the way home the next day, we stopped at the outlet again. This time my co-worker set the alarm on her phone so that we would not spend more than 30 minutes. It sounded good, but this was mistake number three. We heard the alarm and hid from my co-worker while we continued to shop.

So, now I'm another $70 lighter and back to my real life. Damn...