Musings of an ocean-loving, tree-hugging disseminator of useless information
I am slowly working on my own webspace (beachedlibrarian.ca) and have (thanks to Joanne) finally got WordPress running and all my old posts moved over. So, I figured that I should just start using it now. That means that I won’t be posting here anymore (and I’m turning off comments).
Come visit me in my new space. I’ve even added my first new post in a while.
Time to change my header image. I can’t believe it’s been so long. I have a bunch of fabulous pictures already cropped and ready to be used, but I haven’t changed it since last March.
The old image (the muscle shell) was definitely one of my favourites, but I am also particularly fond of this new one:
The reef at my family’s cottage is full of hermit crabs. Heck, last time I was there, there were hermit crabs in every inch of water – between the sandbars, in the reef tidepools, everywhere. It was pretty incredible. I don’t ever remember there being that many hermit crabs, but, like everything, their population surges and wanes over time.
They don’t look exciting – they aren’t huge, they don’t have deadly looking claws, they are fancy or colourful – but they never cease to amaze and amuse me.
Houseplants, originally uploaded by noixtoc.
I finally bought myself some houseplants. I had been avoiding it as they would have just been another annoying thing to move, but now that I am more settled and not planing on leaving Edmonton for a while, I decided to spruce up my room and add a little plant life.
We have NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), where people attempt to write a full novel in just one month, and we have NaPoWriMo (National Poem/Poetry Writing Month), where people attempt to write a poem a day for the whole month.
What I want to know is if there is a NaArCreMo (National Artistic Creation Month) where people attempt to do a new piece of art each day of the month.
When I step out of the house this morning I sensed the faint smell of spring: damp, dirty decay and wet lawn. It got me thinking about seasons and signs of spring.
Unlike my birth place, the Maritimes, Edmonton doesn’t really have four seasons. Everything is split up in two: cold and not cold. We don’t get that lovely long transition from winter into summer where trees slowly start to bud and crocuses weasel their way out of the damp earth. Nor do we get the long transition from summer into winter where leaves slowly change their green to brilliant hues of red, orange and gold then gently stumble to the ground where they start the long, slow process of decaying before the winter weather hits.
Instead, we get cold until one day it’s suddenly warm, the snow has suddenly disappeared and plant life is suddenly green and growing. At the end of the warm season, it just suddenly turns into winter. The leaves turn a half-assed attempt at yellow which, for a few days, looks quite lovely, but then a cold snap and wind come through and kicks the leaves to the ground, where they freeze dry during the bitter cold nights.
Despite the quick transitions, there are a few signs of spring in this adopted home of mine. For starters, the longer days mean that I have to close my blind so that the blaring sun that beats down on my south facing bedroom window doesn’t turn my room into a sauna. The giant puddle/icy patch in front of my apartment, which is normally created by the slowly melting snow getting damned off by the thick packed down snow pressed up against the curb, suddenly disappears. The dust and dirt from the remainders of the sand that was spread to make driving easier during the snowy season starts to waft into the air every time a car drives by or the wind blows. And, pot holes the size of small cars appear from under the 6 inch thick packed snow used to cover the side streets.
These may not be the most romantic signs of spring; they may not illicit thoughts of life being renewed, of long sunny days with the scent of lilacs roaming the streets and the sounds of song birds at your window. These may not be my idea of a joyous heralding of the new season. These may not making you want to pack your things and move to Edmonton. But, these are our signs of spring and, quite frankly, after a brutal Edmonton winter, I’ll take what I can get!
Downturn Puts New Stresses on Libraries
“A therapist is planning to give a workshop at the library called “Finding Hope After Losing a Job,” while also offering advice to library employees who are increasingly being thrust into the role of first responder to emotionally distraught patrons who view them as confidantes.”
There’s been a lot of talk about how libraries are seeing increased numbers of patrons since the economic downturn. People are turning to the libraries for free entertainment (free books, movies, music and free events like story time, film screenings, and lectures), for job
search resources (internet, computers, etc.) and for somewhere to get out of the cold. On the face of things, this isn’t any different from a year ago, but the numbers are increasing and the librarians are dealing with more stressful situations – people crying because they are desperate for help, people who can’t read or write needing help filling out job applications, fights (even stabbings), and theft of personal properties and cash. While increased police or security presence may help mitigate some issues, I don’t envy the librarians who have to deal with these sorts of stresses with increased frequency.
It’s a very interesting – and somewhat startling – article.
This makes me laugh.
It also got me thinking: I wonder if anyone’s done a plain language graphic novel version of any Shakespeare? I’d be down with that.
Edit: Thanks to Classical Comics, I may one day read (and possibly enjoy?) Henvy V!
There is a small group of very hard working, intelligent women having a lively (and sometimes heated) discussion about functional classification* in the boardroom next to my cubicle. Both my cubicle-mate and I had to stifle out giggles when we heard “… in actual actuality it’s actually …” as part of a passionate explanation of something complex and political sounding.
*Functional classification is when you organize things based on why they exist instead of on the organizational unit that created it. Roads are often classified like this. Instead of sorting them by who built them (federal, provincial, municipal) they sort them by their function (highway, arterial road, etc.).
I’ve ranted and raved about how Edmonton does not know how to clear snow. I’ve ranted and raved about how Edmonton does know how to handle more then 2 cm of snow. I’ve ranted and raved about how the slightest increase in temperature turns snow to solid – and sometimes even slick – packed snow because it is quickly followed by dropping temperatures. I’ve even ranted and raved about how Edmonton snow gets extremely dirty and gross really fast.
Today I am laughing about Edmonton and snow. Or, maybe I am just laughing at how conditioned I have become after spending my first 30-ish years in a city that gets snow on a regular basis. Yesterday the weather person said that we could expect a couple of days of snow. She sounded somber and serious. I thought, “Oh crap. Just what we need: a few more feet of snow”. I started thinking about what errands I could run before the snow started. I started planning my routes to walk that would be mostly free of snow. I started getting really frustrated about how this damned winter just does. not. want. to. end!
Then … I laughed.
She said we could see a cumulation of up to 4 or more cm.
Cm as in centimetre.
As in as much snow as Halifax gets in the first 20 minutes of a regular snow fall.
You can take the women out of the Maritimes, but you can’t take the Maritimes out of the girl.
A few weeks ago I was lamenting – to anyone who was willing to at least pretend to be listening – about how it was dark when I left for work and dark when I came home. The mornings and evenings have gradually been getting lighter. This morning, as I waited for the bus, the sun was rising, the birds where chirping, and the street lights were shutting off after a long night’s work. It felt like the first real morning since sometime mid-Fall.
If it weren’t cold enough to freeze my fingers off, I could go back to my usual habit of going out to the bus stop and reading until the bus arrived.
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