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stray musings and introspections stumbled upon in the stacks or the recovery period thereafter
Today is the Vernal Equinox, the first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere and the New Year in many ancient traditions. It is the time of new growth and new beginnings. Eggs are one symbol of this festival since they represent new life. To celebrate, decorate an altar or small table with a green cloth and place on it spring flowers, Pussy Willows in vases, or sprouting bulbs in pots. Place a bowl of hard-boiled eggs in the center. Cast a circle and call the quarters: east for the spring, now with us; south, for the summer that is to come; west, for the autumn far away; and north for the winter that is ending. Hold up an egg and say, “I dedicate this egg to new beginnings in the coming season.” Meditate for a little while on your hopes for spring, then take that energy into you by cracking and eating the egg. by.....
~Magenta Griffith
the idled librarian type can use the computer and/or print resources to identify and locate people whose homes can be burglarized; some of them might even be robbed if the research reveals that they go around with a lot of cash on hand. Many a clever criminal has used the library for these purposes. Why should we leave all the good things to them? Besides, it is a way to get a bit of revenge against a society that doesn't value either the librarian or her skills--if you don't believe this, take a look at your paycheck to see how you've been robbed.
Most librarians lack up-to-date robbery or thieving skills. Few of them are adept at cracking windows or carrying off home-invasion heists, but knowledge, as we like to say, is only a few keystrokes away. To begin with, you should research prominent folks in your neighborhood. Find out where they live. If they belong to social clubs, dig up schedules--it's a lot better to jimmy a window when only the maid is home--she probably makes about what you do and won't mind you stepping on the curtains if you're polite. Oh, and learn Spanish. Many household slaves are underpaid foreign nationals from Hispanic countries. A few nice words will get them on your side; maybe they will even show you where the Master of the House keeps his coin collection.
Also: know when to use violence. Is it more lucrative to pistol-whip the man of the house, or just threaten? This is another skill that will come in handy when you are managing your own library.
[It is very important that you do not kidnap kids unless you have a place to put them. If you must, leave them in the children's section of the library; they will be indistinguishable from the others dumped there, and will doubtless be happier than at home with the folks.]
Do some hard thinking about murder. It is not something to take lightly. Most thefts are treated like squashed bugs by the police, but if you off some fool, even if he wouldn't give up the leather, they'll put the eye on you but good. You might end up doing life, clerking in the library at the state pen, and they don't have wireless connections, believe me.
My suggestion is that you begin by dipping into the cash box, just to see if you like the feeling. Give a look at gun magazines to see if they've got something that matches your purse. When you see patrons, don't just think of service, think of opportunities. What the heck, if you don't ever become a thief, you can always run a retirement plan.
BookBrowse reviewer Kim Kovacs is an avid reader in the Pacific Northwest. All those rainy days give her the opportunity to enjoy a wide variety of books that span many genres.Back in the dark ages when I was dating, I had a friend tell me I had no standards when it came to men – that I'd date anyone. Now, that certainly wasn't true. I wouldn't, for example, date someone with poor hygiene or who professed to be an axe-murderer. I did have to admit, though, that my friend had a point, that I would date, well, pretty much anyone who'd ask me out. On further analysis I decided that this was not, as implied by this so-called "friend," an indication of loose morality, but was in fact an indication of strong character. It meant I didn't judge people too quickly; I got to know them a bit before deciding whether or not a relationship had any chance of working out. A valuable gem might lie just beneath a rough exterior. I was willing to take the chance of finding out.
I'm no longer free to date (I have a feeling my husband would disapprove), so I've had to find something else to feed this need I have to try new things. That "something else" is, of course, the world of books. (Who knows? Perhaps it was my love of constantly exploring different kinds of books that led to my willingness to sample different kinds of men.)
Think about it – there are a lot of similarities between picking a mate and picking a book. Your eye may land on a handsome volume at random, or you may hear about a promising one through a friend whose taste you respect. You pick it up and take it home with you to evaluate further. The relationship might be fast and furious, or it may end up being something you savor, or - even better - a love that you return to again and again over the years. Or it may end up being a complete waste of time. You just never know until you investigate what's between the covers.
Relationships with books actually have some pretty compelling advantages over relationships with men. With books, it's always your choice if the liaison ends prematurely. You don't have to worry about the awkwardness of trying to avoid your discarded book should you bump into it in the grocery store. You can tell it, "It's not you, it's me" or even "You know, it actually IS you" without hurting its feelings. It will also never insist on an exclusive relationship, and no one will think ill of you if you love more than one. You can take one to bed with you the very first night you bring it home without your mother blinking an eye.
I seem to have a misplaced sense of loyalty toward the books I start. I know a number of readers who will stick with a book for fifty or a hundred pages, and if they're not impressed by that time, will unceremoniously discard it, never giving it another thought. I, however, end up feeling that even if I have my reservations, I need to give it a chance; it may improve on further acquaintance. I feel guilty if I don't struggle through to the end. Like most of the men I've dated, though, my initial impressions were correct, and the additional time spent struggling to enjoy the experience was time lost. Perhaps now that I'm older I should start developing higher standards... at least where books are concerned.
Although three cats are definitely enough, lately i have felt an irresistible urge to add a dog to the mix.
Although i have made many a stupid mistake in my lifetime i don’t regret a single one (they have made me who i am today and i am pretty okay with that person.)
Although i would give almost anything to be without these damn migraines i am
very grateful for all they have taught me about myself.
I am addicted to popcorn (and cheese—meat is not such a big sacrifice but i could never give up cheese.)
When i was small and went grocery shopping with my father i somehow got the idea that the beer he bought smelled like rice pudding and was so disappointed to discover it tasted absolutely nothing like rice pudding.
My favorite kind of beer is Pyramid Apricot Weizen even though i am not that found of apricots (too many memories of being forced to pick up the mushy rotten ones from our back lawn as a child.)
I always wanted to be an academic librarian and the thought of being a public librarian was at the very bottom of my list (never was a big fan of the public.) Now that i am a public librarian i can’t really imagine being anything else.
I love reading and even though i own probably more books than i could ever read i somehow keep acquiring more (a bitch to move across country—and my list of books to read is even larger than that.)
I remain friends with almost all my exes.
I could not survive without sarcasm.
I am NOT shy, people that know me are more than aware of this; people that don’t rarely believe me when i tell them so.
I see a neurologist at least once a month and she is constantly switching up my meds (I also see a second neurologist every three months for my sleep disorder.)
I am a mass of contradictions.
I am very rational and logical but my passion seems to rule my life (and that little voice in my head is not so much one of morality but rather constantly telling my how irrational my actions are.)
It took me forever to like sci-fi because when i was little my dad used to come home from work, drag me downstairs, switch on star trek, and not allow me to talk to him except during commercials (he wanted to spend time with me~and such quality time it was…)
Now i love Star Trek (original and TNG~Gina, you got me hooked on this...)
I can’t stand squash (any kind—even zucchini). Never have, never will (again, childhood memories which i shan’t get into here.)
I love New Year’s Eve but haven’t celebrated it for years.
When i was younger i used to think most people thought like me, the older i get the more i realize that i am so much more liberal than most of the population.
People who think they know everything are rather annoying to those of us who actually do (see number 14, and i actually think agnosticism is the only way to go.)
When i was a child in Alaska i believed you plugged in you cars overnight to make them go the next day (instead of to keep the engine from freezing—don’t know why i never noticed my parents didn’t plug them in during the summer—perhaps because summers were so short?
Time slips
not only on seas of good intentions
but on waves of dismotivation (and lack of intentions)
on streams of distraction
on ripples of boredom
on infinite raindrops of emptiness and dissatisfaction
and on mists of ambivalence
Away. (and the water is so murky…)
(and maybe it's not so funny either...)