I have an eleven and a half hour break from home, for travel to work, work and back, five days per week. Monday and Tuesday start at 9:30 AM and Wednesday through Friday start at 6:00 AM. So I raise the garage door and wheel the Trusty Triumph out, turn fuel valve, pull choke (not really) hit switch, and go back to pack lunch into backpack and put on helmet and goggles, grab gloves and lock down garage door and get on motorcycle. Take a breath, pull on gloves, zipper jacket, look at the Sunrise, push in choke (not really), hands on grips, pull in clutch lever, push down into first gear, look around one more time and roll down the drive engaging clutch friction zone, roll on the throttle and away...
It is a thirty minute ride, with all the traffic lights and stuff to slow me down, Lakewood police and photo speed traps. But it is a great day and I am mellow, alert and having lots of fun on the ride. I do notice with the sunny day and it being Friday that the roads are rather empty - did I miss the notification of a holiday? Is everyone calling in sick? I am so on top of it rolling into the parking lot and shutting down. I lock up, pack the helmet and goggles in the backpack and put on the baseball cap and start walking down to the dock. Thirty to thirty-five minutes, walking by the new construction on the High School and down the hill through the woods. It always reminds me of Pennsylvanian forest, oaks and maples with broad branches and leaves shading the roadway. Since I go so slow I approach a doe with her fawn, preparing to cross the road, lean and delicate she eyes me and twitches her ears in my direction, safe she walks across the road with the fawn in trail position, stopping as the fawn enters the wood to eyeball me and twitch the ears, making sure I am not following. Nature is to be part of, not just read about. Now if human females paid that much attention to me I would be in trouble, all the time.
I talk to one of the counselors about the article about the library - everyone with a computer and time on McNeil Island got a chance to read about it, some write and this man talks with me about it. He rides a Harley with all the trimmings when he feels Harley-like, only the best of days, with leathers, chaps, and boots. We load on to the ferry for the ride to McNeil Island. Loading takes twenty minutes, the ride takes twenty minutes - I could nap or read, so I read about shooting my rifle better "The Hunter's Guide to Accurate Shooting: How to Hit what you are aiming at in any Situation" by Wayne Van Zwoll. Foot race off the boat onto the floating dock (tide is twelve and more feet) and on to the prison. Pick up distribution and open the library, turn on the computers, switch back up tape and take my gear off and put the radio with fresh battery on my belt.
The first three hours are doing Overdue notices, answering email and checking in books from the book drop, then shelving and shelf reading, I get permission to add twenty-seven donated books to the collection and I download their MARC records, write the call number up for the clerks to make and give them the books to prepare for circulation, I will get them one more time to link them and check the processing. One of my workers has a visit, every two weeks if he is lucky, so he leaves after an hour. We do a hot trash run, recycle and trash with rag bag exchange - which means we get outside into the Industry compound and say hello to all our patrons at their jobs - and they do want noticed and appreciated. I have prepared the outgoing mail so while the clerks are back at their units until called for lunch I take the mail and overdue slips and pickup notices to the communications boxes and the mailroom. One bin for one bin, daily news papers, three magazines (two of them in Spanish) and eight interlibrary loan (ILL) items, a very light mail day.
I stop for my lunch; a pickle, sandwich and two red apples. I get two workers back after lunch and that looks like the crew, so shelving has effectively stopped. We take in, check out and find desired items. I register some new patrons and answer more email, and find I have two book carts approved for purchase - only sixty-six items and sixty dollars under budget - I will look at something to fill that gap. The missing worker shows up two hours after lunch, he fell asleep - it is Friday and I expect everyone that works will want to sleep early and long on Friday - it doesn't happen that way, but seems like it should. So the shelving starts again in the last hour, the new books are almost ready for linking (I will wait until Monday). We sent five CDs off to Acquisitions for processing, they were donated by inmates - so they could buy others, they are only allowed to own fifteen, I believe. I close up and put in the mail bins all the returned ILL materials from the afternoon, first out going mail is Monday at 11:30.
Book talk today covered: "The Last Lecture" purchased and read recently by myself and my worker with the visitor, he wondered that the author hadn't died -- I would find out later that today he did. Another worker has been convinced to read "Dune" and he doesn't do much fiction and science fiction isn't his genre - but he will do well with that one. He turned one of his buddies on to "Forever War" which he had recently finished, and I told him to try "First Blood" and forget Rambo the movie and put yourself in post Vietnam America. Being tough guys, the three of us have done all of Cormac McCarthy's recent works. Patrons want me to buy all the J.A Jance and Evanovich that I can get. One patron that is always on me about buying more James Patterson was worried about my long bushy eyebrows and I told him he would be talked about if he kept looking at me that closely. It doesn't grow on top like it once did, eyebrows might be all I get soon, look what they do for Andy Rooney. I am wading carefully in the book "A History of the American People" by Paul Johnson -- recommended by Jerry Pournelle, who is fighting his own battle with cancers, growths and age. I don't need more History, just a fresher look at it from this Englishman's perspective.
Recall is sounded, the library empties and the crew cleans off the tables, re-sets the chairs in place and says good-bye promising to show up in a couple of weeks. I turn all the computers off, one last check of email, put the radio and keys away, sign the tool inventory form and shut off the lights. Another week bites the dust. It is almost four and I have an hour and a half left before I ride up on the sidewalk at my home.
The afternoon is beautiful, the ferry ride isn't packed - some people must have left early and I talk with the tool sergeant about whatevers, and read more about that sight picture when shooting. We get on the first bus out, I get on my motorcycle and the day is perfect except for all the caged drivers hogging the road, sigh - the oil industry will have another great quarter of profits. At the same place I met her yesterday is the young woman on her Sportster. She has a blue shirt today, it was purple yesterday and this time she is a couple of cars behind me. Since this is the same time and place as yesterday, we are now in a relationship. I didn't like her getting ahead of me by taking the road she did, cutting four stop lights out of her ride - so today I take her turn first and she follows me - she rides fearlessly but not foolishly, and we are almost paired riding to and down Pacific, we go into the turn onto military road in fine form and on to where we will each leave the road - each to our own lives - just a short casual relationship, but she rides well and that is a good thing. It is almost five - thirty.
Home, dinner with my wife, Korean zuccinni pancakes, with seasame seed soy sauce and Smackdown awaits - but I will fall asleep somewhere during commercial breaks.
The first three hours are doing Overdue notices, answering email and checking in books from the book drop, then shelving and shelf reading, I get permission to add twenty-seven donated books to the collection and I download their MARC records, write the call number up for the clerks to make and give them the books to prepare for circulation, I will get them one more time to link them and check the processing. One of my workers has a visit, every two weeks if he is lucky, so he leaves after an hour. We do a hot trash run, recycle and trash with rag bag exchange - which means we get outside into the Industry compound and say hello to all our patrons at their jobs - and they do want noticed and appreciated. I have prepared the outgoing mail so while the clerks are back at their units until called for lunch I take the mail and overdue slips and pickup notices to the communications boxes and the mailroom. One bin for one bin, daily news papers, three magazines (two of them in Spanish) and eight interlibrary loan (ILL) items, a very light mail day.
I stop for my lunch; a pickle, sandwich and two red apples. I get two workers back after lunch and that looks like the crew, so shelving has effectively stopped. We take in, check out and find desired items. I register some new patrons and answer more email, and find I have two book carts approved for purchase - only sixty-six items and sixty dollars under budget - I will look at something to fill that gap. The missing worker shows up two hours after lunch, he fell asleep - it is Friday and I expect everyone that works will want to sleep early and long on Friday - it doesn't happen that way, but seems like it should. So the shelving starts again in the last hour, the new books are almost ready for linking (I will wait until Monday). We sent five CDs off to Acquisitions for processing, they were donated by inmates - so they could buy others, they are only allowed to own fifteen, I believe. I close up and put in the mail bins all the returned ILL materials from the afternoon, first out going mail is Monday at 11:30.
Book talk today covered: "The Last Lecture" purchased and read recently by myself and my worker with the visitor, he wondered that the author hadn't died -- I would find out later that today he did. Another worker has been convinced to read "Dune" and he doesn't do much fiction and science fiction isn't his genre - but he will do well with that one. He turned one of his buddies on to "Forever War" which he had recently finished, and I told him to try "First Blood" and forget Rambo the movie and put yourself in post Vietnam America. Being tough guys, the three of us have done all of Cormac McCarthy's recent works. Patrons want me to buy all the J.A Jance and Evanovich that I can get. One patron that is always on me about buying more James Patterson was worried about my long bushy eyebrows and I told him he would be talked about if he kept looking at me that closely. It doesn't grow on top like it once did, eyebrows might be all I get soon, look what they do for Andy Rooney. I am wading carefully in the book "A History of the American People" by Paul Johnson -- recommended by Jerry Pournelle, who is fighting his own battle with cancers, growths and age. I don't need more History, just a fresher look at it from this Englishman's perspective.
Recall is sounded, the library empties and the crew cleans off the tables, re-sets the chairs in place and says good-bye promising to show up in a couple of weeks. I turn all the computers off, one last check of email, put the radio and keys away, sign the tool inventory form and shut off the lights. Another week bites the dust. It is almost four and I have an hour and a half left before I ride up on the sidewalk at my home.
The afternoon is beautiful, the ferry ride isn't packed - some people must have left early and I talk with the tool sergeant about whatevers, and read more about that sight picture when shooting. We get on the first bus out, I get on my motorcycle and the day is perfect except for all the caged drivers hogging the road, sigh - the oil industry will have another great quarter of profits. At the same place I met her yesterday is the young woman on her Sportster. She has a blue shirt today, it was purple yesterday and this time she is a couple of cars behind me. Since this is the same time and place as yesterday, we are now in a relationship. I didn't like her getting ahead of me by taking the road she did, cutting four stop lights out of her ride - so today I take her turn first and she follows me - she rides fearlessly but not foolishly, and we are almost paired riding to and down Pacific, we go into the turn onto military road in fine form and on to where we will each leave the road - each to our own lives - just a short casual relationship, but she rides well and that is a good thing. It is almost five - thirty.
Home, dinner with my wife, Korean zuccinni pancakes, with seasame seed soy sauce and Smackdown awaits - but I will fall asleep somewhere during commercial breaks.
4 comments:
Now that was a good day.
Plus, you have the ability to recognize and appreciate it.
nice, earl...and by the way, the comment about carry permit holders was in relation to an article that stated that the brady group was currently the first result on google in response to that term, so a lot of gun rights protectors are just blogging the words to knock their result down a bit...just a baby step in the war against...i started to say enemies, but i really believe it's just ignorance in most cases...have a good weekend; try to get in some casual time on that trumpy...jtc
You noted that your patrons liked to be seen doing their work. I get the same thing from my students. It always feels good to them to be seen doing a sport or play or orchestra or whatever by their teachers. I guess you get the same from the patrons. I'm glad that you notice them.
Nice recap! While it seems a pretty quiet life, I'm sure there are hidden little pleasures in the rides and things observed along the way.
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