You may be asking yourselves, “Annabelle doesn’t do Pajama Storytime. What is this nonsense? Am I hallucinating?”
No, chickadees, you’re not hallucinating. Remember, I’m at Neighborhood Branch for the next six weeks, and they have a regular Wednesday night PJ storytime, which I have wanted to do FOR. EVER. It’s very exciting.
I’ll talk more about Neighborhood Branch (NB) in a minute, but first, let’s tackle storytime.
Even though I started here yesterday, some of my Main Branch (MB) coworkers had transferred to NB in previous months, and gave me a little heads-up about what to expect in terms of patrons, etc., but most helpfully in what my duties might be. Coworker S told me that I’d probably need to prepare for Wednesday Pajama Storytime and a Saturday Family Storytime, which the manager of NB confirmed when I met with her.
While PJ storytime is really a storytime in the evening, and doesn’t officially have to have anything to do with pajamas, I figured I would dress for the occasion – pajama pants, long-sleeved tee, and of course my Oscar the Grouch slippers, I’m no fool – and choose at least one bedtime-related book. I had only about seven attendees, since 7 p.m. is kind of a funky time for a storytime, but we had a lot of fun, it seemed.
Now, onto what it’s like at NB. Bear in mind, of course, that I’m only on day two of 42 days, and that I still have some things to learn, but I like it very much. I feel like I’m up and moving all the time – collecting used books, shelving books – but I like it. More is going on. We have a quiet time between lunch and school ending, and then once school gets out? BAM. Slammed.
Here in NB I’m working solely with children – not with teens, and not with adults. So that means birth – 12. Tweens are such a different breed from teens (Sister A works with tweens and is sending me smug “Now you know what I’m up against, in the trenches, every single damn day!” emails). The teens I’ve encountered in MB cause more malicious trouble – the swearing, coming in so high they can’t stand up, you know, more serious kinds of trouble. The tweens so far in MB seem to just be tweens, who are more mischevious than malicious: the afterschool freedom, being silly, a little too loud, trying to sneak food in and then getting caught and being all “aw, shucks” about it.
(They have yet to learn that I don’t take any crap, but I’m sure they’ll learn eventually.)
Lots of procedures are different here, such as how we process holds, either coming in or going out, but I’m a quick learner and it all seems straightforward enough. I’m excited to see how it all pans out!
In the top spot: The trailer for the new Gillian Flynn movie is out! It’s in French, but pretty self-explanatory, and NSFW. (Read all her books. Gone Girl was awesome, and it’s my least favorite of the three.)
If you’re artsy, make me one of these, okay?
Empowering books for little girls (or any girls).
Nine life lessons from children’s books.
Madeline’s obituary, from McSweeney’s. (The other ones are good, but this is my favorite, particularly the last line, natch.)
It’s the best book about museums, that’s for sure.
I hate to say this, but I can see the truth in it…
Some of these are freakin’ hard! (I was on Jeopardy! a few years ago, and I would have happily severed my own fingers for a lit category.)
What’s in Britain’s “most eccentric and original library”?
From Friend D:
This is the sexiest library ever. I’ve never been to Seattle, but want to go purely for the library.
From Mama Bear:
As someone who found her favorite British series from childhood on eBay as an adult, the answer is yes, yes it is.
Good for the daily non-reader, said Mama Bear (“read: non-us,” she said. We’re reading snobs in our family.)
More better book titles.
Anyone who loves Sherlock Holmes from such a young age is okay by me.
Still spunky after all these years (although – was that really Harper Lee who wrote the note? #conspiracy)
From Sister A:
“I sincerely hope they do it justice,” she said in her email.
In What’s Annabelle Reading, prepare for my consumption of books to decline sharply while I’m at NB. Now that I have a much shorter commute (either by car, bus, or foot), rather than my standard 45-minute-plus commute, I won’t be inhaling books as quickly as I have in the past.
Anywho, as I was weeding last week, I picked up a book that I remember disturbed the hell out of me when it was read aloud in fourth grade, so I wanted to revisit it to see why. This time around, I found it mostly charming, and could see some traces of what would have scarred nine-year-old Annabelle.
The other book I read this weekend was so over-the-top ridiculous with its symbolism and its themes that I was like, OKAY I GET IT ENOUGH WITH THE DRUGS AND THE SEX WE GET IT IT’S ALL THE TITLE OF THE BOOK and now that’s two days of my life I’ll never get back. But I stuck with it because I thought it might get better. Spoiler alert: it did not.