I have always loved libraries. My grandfather left us a roomful of books, mixed in with our newer stuff, and I would pop in and browse from an early age - I was reading from the age of 3, I'm told! I shared various bedrooms with siblings during childhood, but possibly my favourite was the cosy book-lined 'box-room' where I could reach out and pick a book without even getting out of bed. When I grew up, public libraries became a place of refuge from the whirl of life outside, and were invariably staffed by quietly-spoken, courteous and friendly individuals, who, when approached, were only too happy to lead you to the right book-stack, or recommend something new. I headed for my local library this morning, as I had tried to update the loan of my current Book Club read (The Fat Years by Chan Koonchung) online, only to be declined. I needed a human being! Luckily, although the local library has now installed an online screen where you are supposed to log books in and out, they have retained a real-life librarian. On duty at the desk today was a very personable young man, who kindly solved my problem. I noticed a plate of cake on the counter, decorated with bright red icing, and remarked that I hoped it wouldn't be the cause of an outbreak of hyper-active disorder in the junior readers! He told me that it was actually there as today was the last day of librarian Brian, who is retiring. Oh dear! We shall miss the quietly humorous and ever-helpful Brian - but may his retirement be long and happy.
Lifelong bookworm, love writing too. Have been a theatrical agent and reflexologist among other things, attitude to life summed up by Walt Whitman's MIRACLES.