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Saturday, 27 October 2012

Let There Be Light

Who are all the people in libraries, with their notes, and scribbles, and books?

We pop in to Stockbridge Library on a semi-regular basis. It's always filled with interesting-looking people, beavering away among the books. I always wonder what their stories are.

Today, there was one man with unruly hair and suede patches on his arms. He brandished a vintage wooden ruler, and was underlining what looked like lists of names. Was it a code only he understands? Was he picking a team? Some were underlined once, some twice, some were underscored quite firmly. It looked chaotic.

A grey-haired lady, smartly dressed in jeans, ankle boots, and a quilted jacket, had a book about Mary Quant on her desk. Arrayed around with notes, she was mind-mapping, a new shop venture perhaps?

Two young women sat in silent companionship, a wall of jotters sitting between them. Marking, marking, and more marking; they made a mockery of claims that teachers have an easy job with too many holidays.

Who are they all? I wish I knew, so I could say thank you to them for using the library. We need them.

Libraries encourage children to look up for knowledge, not for magical sky fairies.

Ah, my library, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways: 595.789

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