The Amazing Adventures of The Shushing Librarian - Excuses Excuses Excuses

Hi! My Name is:
The Shushing Librarian

Greetings patrons. How may I assist you today?
The copier? Over there. The bathroom? You need a key. See the clerk.
No, you can NOT leave Jr. here for "a bit." No. I will not waive your fines.

Whoops. Sorry. Wrong mode. I was on auto pilot. This week was rough. Lots of kids hanging out in the library because it was their spring break. I know what you're thinking. Why are they in the library if they are on vacation? Because their parent/guardians do NOT have vacation and think we are a cheap, safe, alternative to child care. Which we are NOT. I repeat. NOT!

Today's post was supposed to be the first of many recapping my get-aways last year. A tour, if you will.

It was supposed to be all about all the FUN I had on vacation.

But frankly, I'm feeling a little crabby. A lot crabby actually.

Crabby and blue.

To throw out a literary reference. You know that pillow of Jo's in Little Women? The one that she used on the couch to signal if she was welcoming company or a chat? If I could have one of those pillows on the display at the reference desk, this would be it, and it would mean

APPROACH WITH CAUTION. CRANKY AND DEPRESSED LIBRARIAN AHEAD!Things have been so rough, I find myself drawn to these types of books instead of Webster's, Bartlett's, Brittannicas, and the For Dummies.If and when I get to escape, I mean, go on coffee runs, I fully intend to pick up a quick dark espresso, butcome back with things like these instead.

One for you. One for me.
Who are we kidding? They are both for me.Did I say stop pouring? Hit me again.

I know, I know.
If I want to manage my stress, I should get another job ....
I mean
Eat right, rest, and get exercise.

I do try. Here's lunch one day.

I even tried to exercise, but I had problems with the equipment being too big or antiquated.Do you know how hard it is to surf in a dress and in a cast that you are not supposed to get wet? Not to mention, there aren't waves in-land? I'm making waves, but you can't surf on them.Sometimes a librarian just has to drown her stresses and cares in tartar sauce and carbs.

A happy librarian is better for everyone.

The unfortunate (or fortunate) side effect of too many carbs, is the carb crash. I have to run behind the building, find a patch of relatively clean concrete, and catch 15 minutes. I say I'm a smoker*, just so I have an excuse to run outside every so often to get my "fix." Don't worry peeps, I'm not smoking. I'm sleeping! And don't worry about me oversleeping out there, I've even bribed one of the pages to come get me after 10 minutes or so, and to be my "excuse person." ("Oh, the S.L.? She's in the stacks with a patron.")

Speaking of excuses, I know I could have spent 15 of those minutes writing this post, but I needed the zzzzzzzzz.Things are so rough, I'm getting distracted by all kinds of things -- like dreaming of winning the lottery, so I could have any car on the lot I wanted. Oh, and to quit. Quitting was the very first thing on the list. You better believe it.

When I go to my adorable, local, historic, organic, and quaint country store,

I get distracted by junk food. The lovely people there have to come and escort me away from the popcorn machine. I guess I get mesmerized or something. I apparently have a tendency to stand there, salivating, in a daze for about 20 minutes. I have been told I scare the other customers.

Frankly, they should be scared. Don't tick off the librarians.

Needless to say, my trip to Sears for parts and service can take an interesting turn sometimes. I won't mention the one instance when I tried to read to the children at the childcare center, but there was the little problem of ... I don't actually work there. Or the time when I forgot to take my microbrews from Cape Cod Beer to the car before I headed into the place that Playskool forgot. (Please note, I am abiding by the restraining order ... I am 500 feet away from the entrance.)

The less I say about what you see here, the better.

I'm soooo soooo ashamed.

As a relief for my stress, and to get some fluids in after the saline overdosing that are not alcoholic, I head down to my other local watering hole. I have to be careful. One of the counter boys is a real jerk.

It's udderly ridiculous in a town this size that I cannot find

some privacy to go quietly insane and deal with the stress in my own special way.It's grinding me down.

One of my other dreams of winning the lottery, besides quitting, getting a new car, is to get some professional help. Yes, some of "that" kind of professional help--but also, some household staff, like a butler

and a private chef.

I'd also like a a private masseuse. Ah Sven. I have knots in my shoulders with your name on it. (Literally. I have tattoos. I *heart* Sven!) And if you notice that there is no picture of the wished-for masseuse included it's because my mental picture of who it might be changes every 2.3 seconds. (Ah, Matt Bomer. Ah, Joe Manganiello. Ah, Ciaran Hinds in Persuasion.) Whoa ..... I gots to stop that!

Let's just say, I know why the caged bird sings .... It's to keep from exploding. It's a stress valve.
In good news, however, the Board has agreed to institute the dog-therapy reading program I have been pushing for. It's good for the kids for their reading skills. It's good for the librarians for their stress levels. Check it out: Library Dogs.All of this is to say, that I'm just too busy to write up a post for Auntie Nettie's blog this week. I'll have to find some time soon to write something.

For now,
This is a wrap.And, that's a wrap.

P.S. I know, I know. It's not punny.
Sorry about all the excuses.
Somewhere along the line, the whining and the entry spiraled out of control.
As you can see, I'm ashamed that it's so bad.I'm obviously no Marcel the Shell.

Please stay tuned for a real installment of
The Amazing Adventures of The Shushing Librarian!

*Excuses by The Shushing Librarian in no way mean that Auntie Nettie, her family, friends, associates, colleagues, acquaintances, readers, patrons, condone or approve of any of the above and aforementioned carcinogenic, alcoholic, carbolic, caffeinated, and caloric methods to deal with stress. Nor do they imbibe or partake in any of the aforementioned and religiously verboten items as alluded to by the plasticine inanimate object.

Gambling, drinking, smoking, lusting, and any other inappropriate patterns of behavior are not suitable for children under the legal age of your country of residence or approved by your religious affiliation of choice.

Auntie Nettie's Attic approves of a sense of humor and reminds you take this with a grain of salt.

Tongue in cheek is obviously included.

Letters to Ollie J - Sept. 15, 1997

9/15/97

[New York]

Dear Grandma [Ollie],

Please forgive me but I was waiting for my film to come back from the shop to send some of the better pictures to you. It’s amazing what I found on the roll – things from my trips to Boston in October & February, JJ packing to leave, and pictures from my long awaited vacation earlier this month. On the one hand, I can’t believe the time has flown by and on the other it felt like the summer crawled by due to work [Caramoor Festival]. I loved being at the Cape. I finally had a chance to really relax in an environment that had nothing to do with work. I walked on the beach, explored an old wreck of a pier, fed seagulls, shopped, and even painted Mom’s bedroom in the trailer. I’ve been back to work for exactly a week now and as much as I was pining for the weekend, I didn’t really expect to have to take Friday off – but my car had other ideas. I spent the day dealing with my brakes, which had magically disappeared. Thankfully no on got hurt, the mechanic wasn’t unreasonable and my car feels MUCH MUCH better.

So life is to back to work, work, and more work, but I’m looking forward to seeing JJ in a few weeks and going to Maine over Columbus Day weekend.

I love you and miss you very much.

Love

[Auntie Nettie]

enclosures:
Prints of boat wreck on Uncle Tim’s Island, on Wellfleet on the Cape
“Hidden Stairs” on Uncle Tim’s Island, on Wellfleet on the Cape
Old North Church, Boston, MA
Jetties on Mayo Beach, Wellfleet on the Cape

Barking Mad -- Guest Dog Blog, Pt. 1

Diggity Dog here again -- guest dogger extraordinaire -- reporting in on my trip with Auntie Nettie's parental units to New England.

These people have dog napped me and taken me allll kinds of weird places. I think they are barking mad folks.

Connecticut

For the Fourth of July, they took me to this thing called the "Boom Box Parade." This CT town started this parade about 20 years ago and it's evolved into an annual thing. Because there was no marching band at the local high school (and still isn't), the parade uses boom boxes (whatever THOSE are ... I'm too young to know) tuned to a local radio station playing Sousa marches. All kinds of people and things march in this parade.

Hello from Quaint New England Main Street.

Here's the mascot from the local AAA team.

Drew calls this the "big chicken."

Wow. That's an OLD CAR!

This "fish" has been in the parade for as long as there has been a parade. Every year, it's a protest fish. This year, it's about a local dump issue.

This town is known for its fascination with froggies.

Cape Cod

I was then transported to an undisclosed location on the Cape. It's a bucolic place, though you can't tell from these shots. (I have a no bare-dog-at-the-beach clause in my contract.)

Here I am lazing around.

Here I am Ruffing it on the roof.

The parental units are selling the hideaway, and put me to work doing some renovation and some cleaning. (I didn't realize it was a working vacation!)

For sale. For info ... Sorry. I don't have any.

Beaches? What beaches? I didn't go to any Cape Cod beaches.

I went TREKKING ... handcart trekking.

Pt. 2

coming soon.