Nearly a month has gone by, once again. I wrote posts in my head while the computer was unavailable but my words were too ephemeral and they misted away (I'd made no notes and shame on me.) But here I am at last, on a rare sunny morning, typing away.
The library is busy. School is nearly finished and Summer Reading has begun. We're collecting our costume things for the parade next week. Kindle and Nook classes continue to bring folk into the branch and our public computers are busier than ever. Audiobooks are in high demand as families prepare for their summer road trips. We make at least ten new library cards every day. I love it.
Book donations have increased in the last couple of months, really good book donations. And by really good I mean 1) great books in excellent shape that we can either add to the collection or the Friends can sell and 2) older books in terrible shape that I can use for crafting. October is our Month of the Book and we're going to offer some adult classes on upcycling old, discarded books and sheet music. I've had a grand time making samples - paper bows to use on presents, flowers of all kinds (the roses are my favorite), various envelopes, collage. We're making packets of book pages, die-cuts, and other paper ephemera to sell to collage artists and scrapbookers. October promises to be a lot of fun.
I'll end this post with something I found in the front of a book published in 1902. It was a typed sheet pasted onto the flyleaf. The discovery made my day:
I give hearty and humble thanks for the safe return of this book, which having endured the perils of my friend's bookcase and the bookcases of my friend's friends, now returns to me in reasonably good condition.
I give hearty and humble thanks that my friend did not see fit to give this book to his infant for a plaything, nor use it as an ash tray for his burning cigar, nor as a teething-ring for his mastiff. When I loaned this book, I deemed it as lost; I was resigned to the business of the long parting; I never thought to look upon its pages again. But now that my book has come back to me, I rejoice and am exceedingly glad: Bring hither the fatted morocco and let us rebind the volume and set it on the shelf of honor, for this my book was lent and is returned again; Presently, therefore, I may return some of the books I myself have borrowed.
Isn't that delightful?
Overheard on Twitter: There's gotta be a better use for the part of my brain that remembers every word to 'Baby Got Back'
Until next time.