... the IT man in LibraryLand
So the other day Salsa Girl and I packed up Hulk and her travelling requirements into the faithful vehicle and made the long trek southwards to visit one's workplace for the requisite showing off of cute new child.
Having listened to the tales her father had been spinning during her short life so far Hulk made sure to delay our departure - with feeding requirements and nappy changes - until there was no chance of encountering mean Auntie Supervisor Grand Chief K who makes daddy do all that hard work for no reason at all.
The downside of our delay was that our entry changed somewhat from the carefully orchestrated small group then meeting group to more of an everyone at once the moment we come through the door kind of thing. I'm told that the mass cooing could be heard suburbs away.
Young Hulk was quite blasé about being handed around from Auntie to Auntie, enjoying stays in the arms of the likes of: Auntie The Administrator, Auntie Big J, Auntie Lord of the Small Fries, Auntie Nurse Janet, Auntie Shirl, Auntie Alltogether Heather, Auntie Miss Amanda, Auntie Groovy Spirits, and sundry others in the parade of Aunties. I'm pretty confident from the empirical evidence before my very eyes that Hulk out-cuted Auntie Bomber Babe's recently acquired grand daughter.
Anyway after a reasonable stay there - and finding a disappointingly low snack level in the workroom we decided to head on to my spiritual home branch for a much less crowded meet and greet.
Upon arrival it was Auntie Days of our Libraries who monopolised the holding - so much in fact that Uncle Mr Prada didn't even have a chance for a hold of his own and had to stoically insist that he didn't need to prise Hulk from Auntie Days' arms as he wasn't affected by Hulk's overwhelming cuteness.
After that visit was over we had ourselves some cafe lunch and then made the long journey home to spend most of the evening trying to calm an inexplicably overstimulated Hulk.
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Showing posts with label Shirl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shirl. Show all posts
The Lessons of Don Juan: Journey to Ixtlan
I finally read this interesting novel by Carlos Castaneda.
It, and a couple of others in the series, were handed to me by Shirl when they were withdrawn(1) from the library just prior to my winter visit to Svetlanaland - which shows that I am only two years behind on following up on reading recommended to me.
It was a reasonably well written exploration of a shamanistic apprenticeship in the desert. It reminded me somewhat of parts of the Illuminatus trilogy and/or the books about the writing of the Illuminatus trilogy and also the classic Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Like those it explores heightened states of awareness that allow the truly open minded to see the other worlds all around us.
One of the amusing things about the Castaneda books is that he presented them as anthropological study and was apparently awarded his degree based upon his first couple of books (this one is the third) despite contradictions between them.
Some have even gone as far as checking his library book stack requests and found that at the time he claims he was undergoing peyote experiences he had in fact requested a book about peyote experiences by someone else and was reading it in the comfort of the university library.
So there you go the library is not only a great place to research, it can also be an accomplice to your religious/philosophy based fraud.
All things to all people indeed.
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It, and a couple of others in the series, were handed to me by Shirl when they were withdrawn(1) from the library just prior to my winter visit to Svetlanaland - which shows that I am only two years behind on following up on reading recommended to me.
It was a reasonably well written exploration of a shamanistic apprenticeship in the desert. It reminded me somewhat of parts of the Illuminatus trilogy and/or the books about the writing of the Illuminatus trilogy and also the classic Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Like those it explores heightened states of awareness that allow the truly open minded to see the other worlds all around us.
One of the amusing things about the Castaneda books is that he presented them as anthropological study and was apparently awarded his degree based upon his first couple of books (this one is the third) despite contradictions between them.
Some have even gone as far as checking his library book stack requests and found that at the time he claims he was undergoing peyote experiences he had in fact requested a book about peyote experiences by someone else and was reading it in the comfort of the university library.
So there you go the library is not only a great place to research, it can also be an accomplice to your religious/philosophy based fraud.
All things to all people indeed.
(1) amusingly I made a typo of sithdrawn for withdrawn when I initially hammered out this sentence. It conjures up wonderful images of Darth Vader prowling the library shelves selecting unused books to be removed by slashing out with his lightsaber. (if you don't get it then read about the Sith)
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... The Lunchless Launch
Now that a few days have passed I have had time to recover from the severe lack of lunch at Monday's RFID launch.
The day started badly with Sister Serials having snuck in over the weekend and processed a huge mound of new magazines which yours truly had to load onto the tagging machine so they could be put away before the launch event happened.
The launch itself went without a hitch which is surprising given technologies usual reluctance to work properly under pressure. I was surprised to learn from the assistant to the minister's copy boy (or something like that, the minister couldn't make it) that up until RFID we'd been tagging books with up to seven tags! But then I'm not a librarian so what would know.
Now to be fair to Supervisor Grand Chief K there were some nibbles and bubbles supplied but there also appeared to be some sort of conspiracy to keep me busy and away from the table as guest after guest was trotted out with questions for me to answer. In the end I did manage to wash down a few crumbs of cheese with the dregs of the last bottle of bubbles - all under the pressure of Devil's Advocate hovering around to reclaim my glass like I was some sort of thief. Suffice to say I wasn't able to complete my set of champagne flutes.
Also this week:
Monday night I once more foolishly subjected myself to The Viking Hat GM's torture disguised as game. Perhaps it the abundance of snacks that keeps me doing it?
Tuesday night I had eight blokes pretending to be cowboys as our latest game - a supernatural western - began with some crazy hijinks on a train.
Wednesday Sonja Roster Queen and I began blasting (or zapping if you're SGCK) the Brighton collection to activate the RFID tags. I don't think I will every tire of the "blasted books" joke.
As it turns out blasting is not nearly as exciting as it sounds. The process involes waving an antenna wand over the books until they are all done - it actually feels more like you're caressing their auras than blasting them.
On Thursday The Administrator and I tag-teamed to train the public for a day consuming couple of classes due to trainer illness.
My week ended on a high indulging in a small after-work tipple with Groovy Spirits, Shirl, and Nurse Janet after the days duties were done.
Once Home I watched the footy until I was joined by Pirate Dave dropping off some cards for the next tournament. We tried to puzzle out his new World of Warcraft boardgame until late in the evening. Eventually he left when he guessed I was tired from my subtle move of passing out from exhaustion.
The day started badly with Sister Serials having snuck in over the weekend and processed a huge mound of new magazines which yours truly had to load onto the tagging machine so they could be put away before the launch event happened.
The launch itself went without a hitch which is surprising given technologies usual reluctance to work properly under pressure. I was surprised to learn from the assistant to the minister's copy boy (or something like that, the minister couldn't make it) that up until RFID we'd been tagging books with up to seven tags! But then I'm not a librarian so what would know.
Now to be fair to Supervisor Grand Chief K there were some nibbles and bubbles supplied but there also appeared to be some sort of conspiracy to keep me busy and away from the table as guest after guest was trotted out with questions for me to answer. In the end I did manage to wash down a few crumbs of cheese with the dregs of the last bottle of bubbles - all under the pressure of Devil's Advocate hovering around to reclaim my glass like I was some sort of thief. Suffice to say I wasn't able to complete my set of champagne flutes.
Also this week:
Monday night I once more foolishly subjected myself to The Viking Hat GM's torture disguised as game. Perhaps it the abundance of snacks that keeps me doing it?
Tuesday night I had eight blokes pretending to be cowboys as our latest game - a supernatural western - began with some crazy hijinks on a train.
Wednesday Sonja Roster Queen and I began blasting (or zapping if you're SGCK) the Brighton collection to activate the RFID tags. I don't think I will every tire of the "blasted books" joke.
As it turns out blasting is not nearly as exciting as it sounds. The process involes waving an antenna wand over the books until they are all done - it actually feels more like you're caressing their auras than blasting them.
On Thursday The Administrator and I tag-teamed to train the public for a day consuming couple of classes due to trainer illness.
My week ended on a high indulging in a small after-work tipple with Groovy Spirits, Shirl, and Nurse Janet after the days duties were done.
Once Home I watched the footy until I was joined by Pirate Dave dropping off some cards for the next tournament. We tried to puzzle out his new World of Warcraft boardgame until late in the evening. Eventually he left when he guessed I was tired from my subtle move of passing out from exhaustion.
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