The love of Libraries

Recently I saw a meme that read, "A truly great library contains something in it to offend everybody." There is truth is that of course, but I've also seen studies recently that say that while the Millenials are killing off several traditions that older folks thought would always be with us, they are also saving one that many people would have bet was on its way out.  Libraries.  

Libraries deserve to survive.  They are not just book storage areas, but are community centers, media has made a home there in many forms, but most importantly to me, libraries are the place that still welcomes children.

Chetco Library Storytime includes rounding up the rainbow balls

 We are lucky here to be in close proximity to two county libraries.  One is the Chetco Community Library in Brookings, Oregon and the other is the Del Norte County Library in Crescent City, California.

Del Norte Storytime making Fall wreaths to match the book they just heard

 Stories are read, art is crafted, puzzles are shared, movie showed, characters like Belle pop in to visit, the turtle swims and a big Mummy case stands guard. Beginning computer skills are explored, more stories are read, music is danced to, slime is made, and preschoolers learn to share and listen and dream.

 Many times I have seen High School kids participating in their own art, or doing their homework, while a homeless person gets warm and checks the computer for job postings. Young families give each other advice and share exhausted stories and the noise of the children is welcomed on certain days, while others are reserved for more quiet studies.

 So this month, thinking of what I am thankful for, Libraries topped my list.

Moo for me

Ever since I was a child I have had a love affair with books.  I know I am not alone in this.  Can you remember the first books you fell in love with?  I can't quite, but I've been told that they were Chicken Little

and 

a farm animal book, and that I tortured the adults in my life with requests to read and reread them until I had them memorized.  Then I made everyone listen to me as I "read" to them.  I guess what goes around, comes around and now my life is filled with a granddaughter who follows close at my side, begging, "Book!" "BOOK!" and carrying a couple books with her.  The three choices all have farm animals in them, and she patiently turns the pages until the cows show up.  Brown cows or black and white, photograph or cartooned, she begins mooing and looks expectantly at me as I have to  perform, again and again, my only really good animal impersonation, a deep rumbling moo that leaves my glasses vibrating until my nose tickles and her hand rests on my chest where the vibration makes her giggle.

 Children can be exhausting, but also inspiring, and as I have less time and energy, I also find my imagination dredging up new story ideas and material for new details in old stories.  So finally I am at the end of a long, busy school year that saw some writing, but no finishing of novels, and I am often sitting with the child on my knee, but I am suddenly sure where the stories are going and I'm having a great time getting there.

 I look back to old pictures of myself as a child and a teen and I remember hearing even then that I was an old soul, an adult in a child's body, someone who did not fit in with her peers much.  But suddenly I am where I must have always been meant to be.  I do fit in this role, I am a grandma and have always been a caretaker and a storyteller.

Welcome to the summer where everything feels magic, because she has no memory of ever seeing a Cherry tree turn pink, it was that way when she was born - but the blooms quickly blew away.  This ear she sees it and every new sprout and bloom is a fragile but somewhat terrifying thing that must be greeted with delight and awe, and touched with a hesitant single finger, ready to pull back quickly if it hurts or pop into her mouth and savor it, if it is a new, yummy.

Doing what I do, every Fall

I have been reading and writing book reviews.

I have been conversing with other authors and with some of my own readers.  I have been walking on the beach and baking blackberry custard pies.

I have been sweeping my floors, and then not mopping them - which is good right, because California is in a drought and all the spare water we might have had has been being used in the ice bucket challenge.

Nothing against the Ice Bucket Challenge.  Two of my friends lost spouses to that nightmare disease, and an old High school class mate just lost her aunt to it days ago. I'm glad that ALS research is getting attention - and I'm laughing at the videos, or getting teary eyed.

What I am not doing is writing. My Novels that is.

One of the authors whose books I have been reading is Michael Angel and after I read and reviewed two of his Fantasy and Forensics books,

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1014233402?book_show_action=false

http://www.amazon.com/gp/review/R2G6YHCX1G5SXD/ref=cm_cr_pr_rvw_ttl?ASIN=B00K3Y08P0

 he sent me a message thanking me and trying to entice me into reading a book from another series. It is tempting. I enjoyed his books but there is Duffy's third book waiting, or the next Double Time book stuck between Pompeii and Mt. St. Helens.  My books, patiently waiting my attention.

Mr. Angel tells me, "Oh, c'mon, what could a chapter or two hurt? And a third of the way through the book you get to meet a cute pegasus colt named 'Thunderbolt the Wondercolt!'"

Which prompted me to reply, "Yeah, but if I get back into Duffy's world I get to hang with a sea Monster and a Unicorn/centaur cross with attitude. I get to play with micro monkeys on a bouncing forest floor and referee a war between two sides of an Island shipwreck. Why am I resisting? Oh, yeah, because I'm at 60,000 words in book 3 and no road map of where I'm supposed to be weaving all these threads together!"

The Truth is, I do love my own books - but Fall throws me out of my game every year.  After summer with my teacher husband around, and being untethered from clocks, the start of school and alarm clocks and big empty stretches of time suddenly alone, waiting for a call to substitute teach from teachers who are not yet established enough to be comfortable being ill for a day. I feel restless and bored, depressed and excited, like I should have made more out of summer but I have this wonderful new beginning so I should make resolutions and be better at everything this new year.

This book is waiting for me to finish it!

The truth is, there is a new set of students to read my books to, and to convince that they want to be writers, and there are two books getting close to done. There is also an amazing 4 month old granddaughter to snuggle. 

 Life is Good.