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Thirty days in a row!
We're having a Victorian Christmas tea at work tomorrow. It's basically a bazaar, with second-best items, used books and Christmas greenery on sale, with lunch available for a price and wassail available for free (which presumably lubricates people up for buying more - I photocopied the recipe and it has a hefty amount of rum). The entire house will be decorated to the nines with Christmas finery.
This is all being orchestrated by our energetic and eccentric brigade of little old ladies who comprise the Friends of Ryerss. I think it's the case in most libraries that Friends groups are a mixed blessing. On the one hand, they provide invaluable and tireless work and we couldn't possibly survive without them. But on the other, we find ourselves smiling and nodding a lot while half-listening to rambling monologues and agreeing to do small favors that are often a great deal more trouble when they first seemed (e.g., "Can you do this seemingly simple task that will have you pounding your head against the screen for the next three hours while you fight with Microsoft Publisher?"). I've learned that the phrase "You know about computers" is one that should have you running to the car to head for Mexico if you have any sense.
But they're dear ladies who do a lot for us, so it pays to humor them. Especially since they tend to pay for these favors with butterscotches.
We're having a Victorian Christmas tea at work tomorrow. It's basically a bazaar, with second-best items, used books and Christmas greenery on sale, with lunch available for a price and wassail available for free (which presumably lubricates people up for buying more - I photocopied the recipe and it has a hefty amount of rum). The entire house will be decorated to the nines with Christmas finery.
This is all being orchestrated by our energetic and eccentric brigade of little old ladies who comprise the Friends of Ryerss. I think it's the case in most libraries that Friends groups are a mixed blessing. On the one hand, they provide invaluable and tireless work and we couldn't possibly survive without them. But on the other, we find ourselves smiling and nodding a lot while half-listening to rambling monologues and agreeing to do small favors that are often a great deal more trouble when they first seemed (e.g., "Can you do this seemingly simple task that will have you pounding your head against the screen for the next three hours while you fight with Microsoft Publisher?"). I've learned that the phrase "You know about computers" is one that should have you running to the car to head for Mexico if you have any sense.
But they're dear ladies who do a lot for us, so it pays to humor them. Especially since they tend to pay for these favors with butterscotches.
