Quite a month

It's been quite a month. I'm getting the hang of my new job. At least I know several routes to and from work, I can find my way to my office, and I can usually remember where various library collections are located when asked.

And today, I had the pleasure of taking care of my grandson while we awaited the birth of his little sister.  She arrived and our prayers have been answered. She's perfect. My 21-month old grandson isn't too impressed, but she will grow on him -- eventually,

So back to work. Not only do I have a very different role, but the library and municipality are very different from my former library and city. I am reminded that there are many ways of doing things. And I'm humbled by that. I know, for instance, that Manitowoc Public Library is not suffering in my absence, and though I'm not my predecessor at Franklin Public Library, this library, too, will weather the changes.

Change. It's tough for everyone. It's even tough for the person proposing the changes. And yes, things must change. I've come to my new job with a different perspective than that of my predecessor. Things that she instinctively understood are new to me and things that are paramount to me, were not of such import to her.

I've looked; I've listened. Franklin Public Library has been called "the Jewel of Franklin," and I whole-heartedly agree. Many people have stopped to meet me and tell me how much the library means to them. My responsibility is to make sure that sentiment continues. We have a great staff, a great facility, and a great collection. The foundation is solid.

The changes that I'd like to make are merely honing procedures and practices, but they are changes, and that means that in addition to implementing them, I will have to seek buy-in. They're all logical in my mind, but everyone who works with me comes to the library with  different perspective and different expectations.

So this will be an ongoing process. I'll let you know what happens.  

Week #1

     My first week at Franklin Public Library was harrowing. Now, I must be clear. Nothing untoward occurred. It was just three days of non-stop activity, a blur of strangers I really must get to know, and travel routes that are not yet familiar.
     Did I mention I only worked three days?  The days were packed and long.  My first day, I attended a Friends of the Library meeting in the evening.  My second evening was filled with a Common Council meeting. The City Budget was on the agenda. The third day was shorter -- just nine hours.  I met a business man whose company sponsored an event from which a sizable donation was made to the Friends of the Library.
     And I was given a whole bunch of logins and passwords.  Now if I can remember which login goes with which password -- and the sites to which those combinations will give me access.  I don't have high hopes.
     I think I know my way around the library, though I don't yet know everyone who works there. I've smiled at patrons, and even helped a couple, but there is so very much to learn.
     I am grateful that the calendar is helping me out with a couple days to reflect. It is the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles, a Jewish Thanksgiving, and I have so many things for which to give thanks! Next week, too, will be a three day workweek as we celebrate Shemini Atzeret and Simchas Torah, the first simply, the Eighth Day Festival because it is so difficult to reach the end of a holiday period, and the second, a day to rejoice in the Torah, rejoice in the Law, and all that we have been given by G-d. And I certainly think G-d has had a hand in all the good things happening in my family now.
     So now it's Saturday night. I'm trying to get a handle on the week that's passed and try to plan the week ahead.  Sunday I'm attending a lecture at the Milwaukee Public Library, then another short week at Franklin Public Library. There are several things I want to accomplish, but I know better, at this point, than to plan. Maybe it's best that I continue looking and listening, and trying to integrate a new way of doing things. 
     I've worked under five directors, but all at Manitowoc Public Library. I though the variety of leaders gave me a variety of organizational experiences, but what I did not consider is that while the directors changed, the infrastructure remained the same. What I am finding in Franklin is that the budget is organized differently, the relationship between the library and the library system is different, and the relationship between the library and the city is different. I have a lot to learn. 
     Different, not wrong. Monday is my first Library Board of Trustees meeting, and I am so looking forward to seeing some of the trustees again and meeting the rest for the first time. And learning from them. This is an exciting time. I've been given an exciting opportunity. I plan to make the best of it.
     Now if only I can find a way to get to work that does not involve following a school bus.
    

Adventures in moving

     I officially rented an apartment, three rooms to call my own about a dozen minutes from work. Even more important, there's a Starbucks about 2 minutes away and a Kwik Trip (for which I have a credit card) just down the block from the coffee shop. The gas station even has decent coffee for those mornings I do not want to make two stops.
     But I digress. . .
     We rented a small truck from a friend. Though not huge, this truck is certainly large enough to accommodate all the furnishings needed for a one bedroom apartment. This truck is also conveniently outfitted with a lift. We rented the truck, we loaded the truck, we drove the truck. It was not a particularly comfortable truck. The fan only worked when the truck was at a standstill.  To get any air on the highway, we needed to open the truck's windows. The truck's seats did not allow for any adjustments. And the truck was incredibly noisy. Patrick and I shouted at one another throughout the entire trip.
     You may have noticed the repetition of the word "truck." One would think we would have been quite conscious of the fact that we were in a truck. Nevertheless, when we saw the flashing red and blue lights in the rearview mirrors, we could not fathom why we were being chased. Patrick dutifully pulled over and a Wisconsin State trooper approached the driver's side window. He greeted us and asked if we knew why he stopped us. We, of course, were baffled. He asked us about the truck and what we were carrying. Still baffled.
     Then he told us that since we were driving a truck we were required to stop at the Truck Weigh Station. Oops! Yes, we knew we were driving a truck and we knew there was a Weigh Station in the southern part of the county, but it never occurred to us that the sign meant we had to have our truck weighed. 
     (In our defense, we drive that route a couple of times each week and the Weigh Station is seldom open, but that was not worth mentioning.)
     We got out of the truck and opened the back. He saw that, indeed, all items were of a personal nature: mattress, box spring, sofa, chairs, table, footstool, Baker & Taylor boxes labeled with such telling words as "misc. office stuff" and "fleishig dishes."  Then there was the basket of yarn and bags of knitting projects. We certainly weren't transporting anything suspect. I imagine the trooper's only question (unvoiced) was, "How did these two fools manage to get driver's licenses?"
     He sent us on our way with a warning to replace the missing mudflap and that when we are driving a truck, we really must stop at Weigh Stations.
     It's really amazing the vast array of things that escape our notice -- no matter how obvious they may be. Did we learn a lesson? Probably, but that came several hours later when we decided the officer's warning was a mute point -- because we are never moving ourselves again! The lesson: the money saved by not hiring a mover does not compensate for the pain. I spent this morning trolling my colleague's offices for Tylenol. 
     I like that. Trolling for Tylenol, a reality show for baby boomers!

Boxes and boxes

     Sunday afternoon I was the manager on duty.  I was at work to handle any unusual situations.  Since the Manitowoc Public Library staff is adept at handling most anything, this meant that I had four quiet Sunday afternoon hours to tackle some projects best done without interruption. So I wrote some press releases, worked on a report, and started cleaning out my office.
     Yes, with only five days and a few stray hours left at MPL, it was time to clean.  I did the easy stuff first. I took down photos from the wall. I put my MLIS degree in a box. I added some personal books.
     I have accumulated quite the collection of odds and ends in 13 years.  There's swag from assorted conferences, and magnets, mousepads, and other miscellany from folks who've tried to sell me stuff over the years. There are copies of articles that have long since outlived their usefulness and greeting cards from holidays past.
     So I'm packing and tossing and redistributing, and all the while wondering what will actually make the trip to Franklin with me.  My dictionary and copy of Robert's Rules of Order are long out of date.  I can't find my AP Style Guide, though I know I replaced my 1976 edition sometime this millennium. I'll take my coffee mug, though I think it will live at my apartment and not my office. It's a mug I actually remember my dad using. He passed away 26 years ago, but I like using his mug because it reminds me of him (not that I need a mug by which to remember him).
     Then there are the 13 years of business cards and six years of name badges, all with different titles. I'll pass along the magnet backs for others to use, but I think I'll toss the cards and badges. I don't need those mementos to recall the growth I've experienced at Manitowoc Public Library. 
     Yes, experience is what I most cherish and what will accompany me to Franklin Public Library and wherever else I may roam. I've grown a great deal during my tenure at MPL. I started as Public Relations Supervisor, confident in my ability to promote the library. After all, I had promoted a variety of industrial, professional and educational concerns.
     Little did I know I'd come to love libraryland. I love that a library is an essential service available to everyone in times of calm, as well as times of crisis. Libraries let everyone read, watch and listen to whatever they'd like. We try to make sure everyone can find something of interest on our shelves. Then we let people take the material they want and simply ask them to return it in a timely fashion. It's fun -- and fulfilling -- to help people. Yes, I stumbled on a great career in 2000.
    Now it's time for the next step in my career, fortified with more than a decade of library experience in addition to my business experience, but the question remains:  How much stuff should I take with me?  I think I'll consider that while I'm packing another box.

Bittersweet

     Tonight was the last Manitowoc Public Library Board of Trustees meeting I will attend. As I listened to the budget discussion from the cheap seats, I realized that as of next month I will be seated at the conference table discussing the same issues with the Franklin Public Library Board of Trustees. We will tackle budgets and policies and technology issues and all of the other things that impact public libraries. And I’m ready for the job. I start in just 20 days, and I really am counting down. I can’t wait!

     What I’m not sure about is leaving home. It’s not as if I haven’t left before. Three days after I graduated high school I moved to Milwaukee to work for the summer. From there I headed to Illinois where I went to school, married and had my first baby.

     Eight years later I returned to Manitowoc – for just one year, I told myself. I meant it. I had every intention of returning to Chicagoland or, at the very smallest, Milwaukee. There is an old Yiddish proverb, Der mentsh trakht un Got lakht, which translates as Man plans and G-d laughs. I’ve been here for 29 years. The Big Guy has a keen sense of humor.

     But now I am leaving. Half-filled boxes fill my dining room. I have an apartment waiting for me in Franklin. I even bought new towels (something that really must be done more often than once a decade).

     When the library trustee who’s been on the board since I arrived told me he’d miss me, I wanted to cry. When I saw the look of surprise on the face of a local merchant with whom I’ve planned years of downtown activities, I wanted to apologize and tell her I was joking.

     Leaving home when you’re 18 is expected. As a teen, I never thought staying in Manitowoc was even an option. Leaving home at the far side of 50 is a little different. At this point, I thought I’d stay. I’m comfortable. I’m also realizing just how close I feel to the people with whom I’ve worked during the past three decades. Certainly, I will make new connections. It will be different, though. I will truly be standing on my own, without the benefit of being Bea and Nash’s youngest daughter, or Patrick’s wife, or Jessica, Nashira and Katie’s mom.

     Am I up for the challenge? Indubitably! But I’m certainly happy that I’m close enough to visit!

Background check

Here I am, a middle aged librarian.  I'm a grandmother, too, complete with graying hair and sensible shoes.  I fit the stereotype.  I even knit.  Yet somehow, it took four weeks to dredge through my past.  Though my life is not quite as boring as my children seem to think it is, I really haven't done anything to trigger an intense check of my past.  Yes, a few motor vehicle violations (some parking, some speeding), but all my other interactions with law enforcement have been either in the context of my job, or social.

It seems the good detective who conducted my background check focused a great deal on my educational background. True, I didn't take a straight and narrow path through my undergraduate studies.  I took courses at a variety of colleges and universities. And I changed focus a few times. And, yes, I attended college under three different names in two different states, but I told the officer all of that up front. If I had falsified any transcripts, wouldn't it look better if I took all my credits at one school, focused on one degree, and excelled in all of my classes.  No one who's lying would have handed over the ragged stack of transcripts that I did.

Which brings me to the question: What if someone did have some indiscretions in their youth?  What if he smoked pot -- even if he never inhaled (a reference that will only be caught by readers of a certain age)?  What if she did default on a loan?  What if the divorce was messy? What separates a worthy candidate from an unworthy candidate? 

Sure, when I post something on facebook or twitter or this blog, I think about possible repercussions. I conduct myself as the bearer of a good name.  I don't want to embarrass myself, my husband, or my children. I don't want to sully my parent's good names.  But what if I had messed up in my teens or twenties? Would that mark me forever unworthy?  Even decades later?

True, I don't know what line I would have had to cross in order to be disqualified as a department head in the City of Franklin, but it does make me wonder.  It also makes me think that the likelihood is great that I will be working with a team of people who think before they act, who care about the organization at least as much as they care about themselves, and who are what they seem.

Maybe the background check was good thing afterall. 

It's official!

The letter of resignation is in my director's mailbox. The moving boxes are piling up at home. I have been offered and accepted the position as director of the Franklin Public Library in Franklin, Wisconsin, a sprawling suburb south of Milwaukee. I start in a month.

Must tell you, the process is quite interesting. I saw the ad for the position. I applied and quickly received a phone call telling me that I would be contacted once the application period closed. Wow! That was impressive.  Already I knew that the Franklin Public Library Board of Trustees was conscientious. Good sign #1. Then, quite soon after the posting closed, I received a call to set up a phone interview. Good sign #2. The head of the search committee explained the process and the interview began. The questions were applicable to the job. Great sign! No nonsense about how I'd get out of a room with no windows or doors, or who I'd lunch with if I could lunch with anyone living or dead. (By the way, the answer to that one is easy. I'd lunch with my parents. I have so much to tell them about the grandchildren and great grandchildren they didn't get to meet and about my new and rather unexpected career in libraryland.)

The next step was an in-person interview. First I toured a beautiful library -- and I know beautiful.  Manitowoc Public Library overlooks both the Manitowoc River and Lake Michigan. During the day it bathes in natural light streaming in from a two-story wall of windows. Aisles are wide enough for me to focus on titles even with my trifocals, and there are lots of places to sit and peruse selections.

That said, Franklin Public Library is housed in a beautiful single story building in the federalist style. The entrance is inviting and immediately demonstrates that the library is devoted to the community -- and vice versa. When you walk into the library proper light shines down from skylights above. Service points are immediately to the right (circulation), center (reference and information), and left (children's services). The collections fan out from the hub, and are surrounded by a variety of seating options, including chairs around a fireplace, and access to an outdoor garden and patio. Yes, Franklin Public Library uses its outdoor space, as well. All four seasons will be lovely at this library!

One of the features I really like is that some marketing-minded librarian decided to put face-out shelving amidst the shelves of spine-out shelving. This makes it easy to find the books you seek, both by giving you great clues as to what materials are shelved in the area, but also giving the eyes a rest from reading words on their sides. I can't wait to shake the hand of the person who did that!

Then the interview. I met with the Search Committee and found everyone quite pleasant. Again, the questions made sense. The committee got to know me, and I learned a bit about the library.  I left feeling good about the interview, but one never knows. I was thrilled with the phone call inviting me back to be interviewed by several staff members. I returned to Franklin, noting that it really isn't as far from my home town as I thought (which will come in handy until my husband and I can both move). The people I met were delightful. This could be good.

Then I waited. I knew when the search committee was meeting to make their decision about whom to recommend to the full board, thanks to the requirement of library boards to post their agendas. That night my husband and I ate dinner rather quietly. As the minutes ticked by, I was steeling myself for the disappointment. Then the phone rang, and the head of the search committee told me that I was their #1 candidate.  All this had happened in just two months. Now all I had to do was be approved by the full board, pass a physical and drug test, and survive a background check.

The first two were easy. The full board approved my appointment.  I signed the necessary paperwork. The library posted the appointment on their website and facebook page, and I was interviewed by the local paper. The physical and drug test were without issue. I thought the background check would be, too. Little did I know that Franklin's finest would not see a grandmotherly librarian, ask a few questions, and give me their blessing.

I needed to produce all of my transcripts -- all the way back to high school, not just graduate school (which I had with me when I met the detective). I needed to discuss various jobs, including my part-time gig as the business manager for the Manitowoc Symphony Orchestra, and provide contact information for my parents and sisters.  I resisted the urge to provide the cemetery's address for my parents. I didn't know if the detective had a sense of humor, and though I now know that he does, I probably made the right choice. The detective visited Manitowoc to talk with my neighbors and friends. He called a variety of police departments to ask about my driving record. He even visited the college where I earned by BA. Now, I couldn't recall anything that would have disqualified me, but I was certainly happy today, almost four weeks after Franklin publicly announced my appointment, that the detective called to say all was well.

So tomorrow I begin to train my successor and earnestly pack up my office and home. I've had the same job for 13 years (my longest tenure ever), and have lived in my home for 25 years. It's going to be a busy month.

Access to information

As a librarian, I talk often about access to information.  After all, libraries aren't just about books anymore.  Actually, we haven't been for quite awhile.  At your local public library you can find newspapers, magazines, music CDs, movies on DVD, toys, artwork, seeds, and much, much more.

Today, while enjoying myself at a community picnic, replete with salads, desserts, charred meat, and lots of good friends, I spied a nook e-book reader on the table.  Of course, I asked if the owner knew he could check out books from the library.  He didn't, so I took out my smart phone and showed him how we could do it via Overdrive!

Then, the conversation turned to languages, I had the opportunity to promote Mango Languages, on online language tutorial also available through the library.  Again, I demonstrated the site on my phone.  That lead to a lively discussion about different methods of teaching languages. 

Do I think libraries will maintain their viability in this electronic age?  Absolutely!  Libraries provide essential resources -- for everyone -- regardless of ability to pay.  Not only are libraries viable in the information age, but they keep the people in our communities viable as well.

Who knew munching on hamburgers, potato salad and home-made kosher dill pickles would lead to a blog about libraries.  I guess anything is possible in the information age!

Inspiration

Julia and Julia played in the background today while I did a little housework. Reminded me that it's time to blog.

This is going to be a busy workweek. Manitowoc Public Library is celebrating 15 years in a new building.  Since I happen to be local stock, having only left for enough years to appreciate small town life, I still think of the old library (the post-Carnegie building) as the new library. Not sure how I think of this one. The new, new library? At any rate, we've been in this glorious 53,000 sq. ft. building for 15 years, and that's a milestone worth celebrating. 

We're planning food and entertainment for Friday afternoon and evening. Circus performers and magicians Miller & Mike will take the stage at 4 p.m., followed at 6 p.m. with singer/songwriter Becky Markvart and later, indy folk rock band Cato Falls. And in between musical sets, we're having a book sale. It'll be a crazy day. Join us!

It'll be a day to celebrate library service. Free access to information. No questions asked. Well, that's a lie. We do ask questions so we can get our patrons the right information, not just random information about a topic. But we don't care why they want it. 

And that means I, too, can read anything. Biographies, mysteries, chick lit, cookbooks (though I tend to just toss ingredients together and hope for the best), knitting books (even though I still haven't mastered reading a pattern), and whatever else looks good. I also have the freedom to put down a book. I don't need to finish it if I don't like it. I can return it and grab something else. What freedom! What fun! 

Just another reason why I love libraries. 

Audiobooks take me back

     I live in a small town and don't have much of a commute, but I do take lengthier trips once or twice a week. If I'm not in the mood to argue with public radio (yes, I'm an avid NPR listener, no, I do not agree with everything they air), I put in a CD and listen.  I don't have a particular genre I prefer hearing rather than reading.  Listening is a different experience, and it works for a wide variety of literature. 
     I recently listened to Paris: A Love Story by Kati Marton. Ms. Marton is a familiar name to many of us.  She was a foreign correspondent through much of my adulthood, and was married to two quite prominent and influential men, journalist Peter Jennings and diplomat Richard Holbrooke. She loved them both, and she also loved Paris.
     I don't speak French. Two of my children do, though I can barely hear the nuances in that romance language. They tease me whenever I try to say something as mundane as crepe. I'm far more comfortable with the harder sounds of its synonym blintz.
     But back to the book. French and Hungarian flowed off the narrator's tongue. Though I would be hard pressed to mimic the narration, I became entranced in the story and the authentic language with which it was told.
     I remember hearing a radio program several years ago. Yes, it was on NPR. A college professor spoke about his life. He taught himself English by reading -- without having heard much spoken English at all. As a result, he knew he mispronounced some words, but since he was the professor, his students were loathe to correct him.  When he was learning English, audiobooks were few and far between, generally available only via libraries for the blind. Today, they are available in most every library, downloadable at no charge via many of those same libraries, and available for purchase from retail outlets.
     And they are an experience worth having. It takes me back to reading to my children. It takes me back to my mother reading to me.  And, when I'm listening to an audiobook, laughing out loud somehow seems imminently more acceptable than doing so while reading quietly. After all, I'm not breaking any silence.
     As a librarian, I think about access to information.  Access an audiobook.  It's a refreshing way to connect to the pages of a book.  

Remembering Dad . . . a little cliche

     It's Father's Day, so I'm remembering my dad.  He hasn't walked the Earth for many years, but he's with me every day, every moment. yes, I am who I am because of my parents.  And I am honored to walk in their footsteps.
     So here I am, a librarian, crediting my dad with who I am today, and I don't have a clear picture of my dad ever reading a book other than a prayerbook, which he read, if you will excuse me, religiously, every day. His other reading material was the newspaper, which he read from cover to cover. And those memories are vivid!  Every evening he'd sit in the den and read the paper.  At that time, even our small town paper (a daily in a community of about 34,000) was significant, multiple sections with many pages each. Certainly not The New York Times, but a far cry from the 12 pages that make up the local paper today.
     I'm guessing Dad was dyslexic in an age long before learning disabilities were ever identified. I don't think reading was easy for him. But it was important to him!  And while I don't remember seeing him reading novels, I know there were westerns at his bedside, and since they changed occasionally, I imagine he read them and replaced them with other titles.
     Manitowoc Public Library's mission includes a statement about promoting a culture of reading.  As librarians, we work at promoting a reading culture to the community.  But as a parent, if your children see you read -- anything at all -- you can give that gift to your children. 
     So thank you Dad, for reading the newspaper every day. And thank you Mom, for the novels you devoured in every spare moment. Reading has always been my pleasure and I have managed to turn that into a career (not, mind you, that librarians spend their days reading on the job, but that when we read for pleasure, we can use those titles for readers advisory).
     Now, in Dad's honor, I think I'll go read a book!

the unfinished book

     Listening to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me! on National Public Radio this weekend I heard that I no longer need to feel guilty about the books I haven't finished -- not the ones I've started to write and never penned a complete chapter, but the books I haven't finished reading. They're on my night stand, and they rise to the top every once in awhile, generally when I pick up the books after I've knocked over the entire stack.
     Sometimes I let unfinished books languish for reasonably good reasons. I own the book, but I borrowed the other one I'm reading from the library and must return it in a few days. Or, book club is next week and I really must finish the selection. Or I just have to find out what happens in the book I'm listening to in the car and I read faster than the narrator speaks. 
     But sometimes the book I'm reading just doesn't grab my attention. I don't connect with the characters, or the writing is choppy, or the editing is lousy and there are typos in the text! If it's a library book, I happily return it and go on my merry way. But if I own it, the guilt settles in. It's there. I should read it.
     But why? Recent estimates indicate that more than 300,000 books are published by traditional presses each year.  Some sources estimate that if you add self published books, reprints of titles in the public domain, and other publications, you can add a zero to the above total.  Obviously, there's something for everyone -- and not everything is for me.  (Audible sigh.)
     So with many thanks to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me! for pointing out the obvious, I will tell you what I've read in the past couple of weeks (leaving out at least one title I returned to the library before I finished it):
    The Lawgiver by Herman Wouk: A wonderful mix of fact and fiction. Wouk's character is real. What about the others? Is there really a movie about Moses in the works?
     Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan: Fast paced fun mix of history and technology. What secrets are hidden in the pages of the book you're reading?
     The Next Best Thing by Jennifer Weiner: Chick lit with a happy ending. Listened to the audiobook. Great narrator.
     A Fountain Filled with Blood by Julia Spencer-Fleming. Second in a series. Getting bogged down in some of the descriptions, but I like the characters enough that I'm happy to keep reading.
    
    

Unusual life in a library

     Not too long ago I was asked about the most unusual thing that has happened to me while working the the library. This gave me the opportunity to think back on 12 years in libraryland.
     I started out as Public Relations Supervisor, and though my title has changed and other responsibilities have been added over the years, I still spearhead public relations and marketing efforts. As a result, the bulk of my day is not spent cataloging material or providing service across a desk. I work with the Friends of the Library and the Foundation. I appear on radio shows and tell the library story to a variety of groups throughout the community. And I have a lot of opportunities in the library afforded me only because my flexibility. 
     There was the day, for instance, when I babysat a baby bat burrowing under a box. To be fair, the bat had no interest in being under a box, but what could we do? It was the middle of the day, the bat why lying on the floor of our mezzanine, and patrons were walking past.  We could not risk anyone touching the bat.  What if it was rabid?  The chances were great, after all, that the bat was not well.  Why else would it have found its way into the library in the middle of the afternoon?  We were not screening Batman or even Stellaluna (which is a lovely children's story of a fruit bat adopted by a family of birds). 
     I nonchalantly set up a cart of books, readying them to be shelved, while trying not to draw too much attention to myself or the box upon which I had perched a pile of hardcover books (it was one feisty little bat), as I waited for the fine folks from Wildlife of Wisconsin to show up and rescue our bat.
     About an hour later, a leather-gloved volunteer appeared. To me he was a knight in shining armor. At no time during my many years of schooling had anyone taught me how to address wildlife issues. He stuck his hand through the box and pulled out the bat. He explained the the bat was healthy, just a confused.  After all, this was a juvenile bat, not used to being away from its family.
     This volunteer took the little bat to give it a thorough check up and release it back into the wild.  A normal day for this volunteer, but a baffling experience for this librarian.  And just one of the many memories that brings a smile to my face. 

Connections

     I'm reading Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Book Store by Robin Sloan. Though not very far into the book at the moment, part of it is about connections. I've noticed recently that of the quarter of a million items at my public library, I often grab related books. Sure, I read series fiction, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about picking up a book that takes place in London (Falling Angels by Tracy Chevalier) and following it with a book that takes place at the English seashore (The Beach Street Knitting Society and Yarn Club by Gil McNeil). Or reading a book about the making of a situation comedy (The Next Best Thing by Jennifer Weiner), then reading a book about the making of a movie The Lawgiver by Herman Wouk).
     There's nothing on the covers that would connect these books. In fact, often the pertinent information is covered by library barcodes and genre stickers (yes, I know, the bane of all library patrons). It's as if an invisible string takes me from one book to another. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but sometimes I find myself reading several books set in and around Savannah or Paris, both places I've never been. In the past several months I've read The Piano Shop on the Left Bank: Discovering a Forgotten Passion in a Paris Atelier by Thad Carhart (yes, I knew from the onset that one takes place in Paris), then An Unexpected Guest by Anne Korkiakivi and The Bookseller by Mark Pryor, both also set in the City of Light. 
     Generally, little thought goes into selecting a book from the library. Rushing through the library, I suddenly remember that I'm pages away from finishing whatever is on my bedside table, or that I just returned the audiobook I was listening to in the car, or that I'm going to be spending some time with my grandson and he may just take a nap. I better have a book in my bag. I grab something handy. If it doesn't grab me quickly, I'll return it and borrow something else.
     So how does it happen that I read two books in a row set in California? I'll have to pay more attention. Meanwhile, thank you Mr. Sloan, for helping me identify the phenomenon. Now to figure out why it happens . . .