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Archive for December, 2009

Midnight is looming and, as is typical, I find myself thinking back on 2009.

Overall, it was a pretty crappy year. In 2009 I lost my full-time job. I also lost my best friend Linda. Still, I do have a roof over my head (although it desperately needs to be reshingled), food, clothing and family & friends and many other things to be thankful for.

But I miss Linda.

I just wish I had the skill to write something about her to do her justice. But she was the writer. I am only left with a quote that she told me she really liked from Rachel Carson’s letters:

“This is a postscript to our morning at Newagen, something I think I can write better than say. For me it was one of the loveliest of the summer’s hours, and all the details will remain in my memory: that blue September sky, the sounds of the wind in the spruces and surf on the rocks, the gulls busy with their foraging, alighting with deliberate grace, the distant views of Griffiths Head and Todd Point, today so clearly etched, though once half seen in swirling fog. But most of all I shall remember the monarchs, that unhurried westward drift of one small winged form after another, each drawn by some invisible force. We talked a little about their migration, their life history. Did they return? We thought not; for most, at least, this was the closing journey of their lives.

But it occurred to me this afternoon, remembering, that it had been a happy spectacle, that we had felt no sadness when we spoke of the fact that there would be no return. And rightly – for when any living thing has come to the end of its life cycle we accept that end as natural.

For the Monarch, that cycle is measured in a known span of months. For ourselves, the measure is something else, the span of which we cannot know. But the thought is the same: when that intangible cycle has run its course it is a natural and not unhappy thing that a life comes to an end.

That is what those brightly fluttering bits of life taught me this morning. I found a deep happiness in it – so I hope, may you. Thank you for this morning.”  Always, Rachel: The Letters of Rachel Carson and Dorothy Freeman, 1952-1964. Freeman, Martha

 

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Or, should I say “humour”?

Either way, luv it!

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Yeah, OK, I’m back to blogging.

Maybe.

Kind-of, sort-of.

So, when we last left our intrepid librarian she was getting downsized due to budget shortfalls. I think I am now classified as “under employed,” since I am holding on to my job but only as a very limited part time worker.

And now, with a new year, comes a new boss. Except that no one knows who that will be. Or just when, exactly, this mystery boss will actually start. We get to fly rudderless (crap, I’m mixing metaphors again…) for an entire month. Well, THAT should be interesting.

So, while we all ponder that, here is a very amusing yet disturbing report by Geoff Nunberg on the horrible state of Google Books categories/ tagging/classification:

“An edition of Moby Dick is classed under “Computers”: a biography of Mae West classified as “Religion”; The Cat Lover’s Book of Fascinating Facts falls under “Technology & Engineering.” A 1975 reprint of a classic topology text is “Didactic Poetry”; the medievalist journal Speculum is classified “Health & Fitness.””

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