Library Memories

It’s been a few weeks since I last wrote a Booking Through Thursday post and I was wondering what today’s question would be. It was quite a surprise to see that it was one I’d suggested!

What is your earliest memory of a library? Who took you? Do you have you any funny/odd memories of the library?

Deb added: Whether you usually read off of your own book pile or from the library shelves NOW, chances are you started off with trips to the library. (There’s no way my parents could otherwise have kept up with my book habit when I was 10.) 

So here are my answers. Like Deb there was no way my parents could keep up with my reading habits or their own for that matter without using the library. My love of stories comes from them as my father always read me a bedtime story and would make up stories of his own to tell me. My mother always had a book on the go and I remember she took me to the local branch library, which was a small library with both children’s and adults’ books all in one room. This was before I started school, but according to my parents I could read by myself then. I have many happy memories of using and working in many libraries since then.

The first library book I remember was about Teddy Robinson and I was so upset when Mum said I had to return it, until she explained that I could then take out another book. There’s been no stopping me since. When I got older every Saturday morning we went to the main library in the town, a bus ride away. This was a much bigger library with separate rooms for the children’s and the adults’ books, a reference library, a reading room downstairs and an art gallery upstairs. The library was always very well used – I remember queuing waiting for the library to open at 10am. In those days you could only borrow 4 books, I think. When I was 12 I was old enough to borrow books from the adult library and felt very grown up.

Not surprisingly, perhaps I decided to be a librarian and went to Library School in Manchester for a two-year course and then worked in the Central Library of Manchester Public Libraries. I loved it, apart from the unsociable hours, that is. That library was open Monday to Saturday from 9am to 9pm and I had to work three Saturdays out of four and two late nights a week. Even in the 1970s library funds were being cut, first the book fund was cut and then the opening hours were gradually reduced. I didn’t agree with cutting the book fund but the reduction in the opening hours was welcome.

Before I went to Library School I’d worked for a few months in a small branch library on the outskirts of Manchester. There were two librarians and one assistant plus me as a student and between us we looked after two small branches, one of which was in a static caravan. The caravan was a more interesting library to work in; it was much more informal as it was usually me and the assistant, who was more my age than the two librarians who were near retiring age and were very formal (they never called me by my first name). As I remember it we laughed a lot and were entertained by the lady who cleaned the caravan, whose son had emigrated to Australia and sent her long, amazingly detailed letters about his adventures, something about opal mining, I think, in New South Wales. She had a new instalment, which she read out to us before we opened the library – we should have been straightening the books but listening to her letters was much more interesting.

After I qualified I first worked in the Local History and Jewish Library – they were in adjoining rooms with the library desk in between the two. The Jewish Library was mainly used by school children and a small number of regular readers who used to come and help themselves to the books without any help from us, which was just as well as most of the books were in Hebrew. My involvement in the Jewish Library was to take cuttings out of the Jewish newspapers and as I worked there during the Six Days War that kept me busy. I also looked at the books on the Holocaust, which appalled me – I’d really had no idea of the horror of the atrocities that had been carried out in the concentration camps.

The Local History Library was very different and was used by school children, students, and researchers into family history, social history and house history. I looked after the large photographic and print collections covering Cheshire as well as Manchester, its suburbs and the rest of Lancashire. I particularly remember cataloguing a considerable collection of postcards that had been deposited in the Library by one family. There were postcards sent by and to the numerous children in the family covering the period (I think) from the 1920s to the 1940s.

Along with the good memories there were inevitably a couple of unpleasant incidents that happened whilst I was working at the library. These didn’t happen to me but to library users. One was in the Local History Library on a late shift, when a girl came running up to me saying that a man had flashed at her behind the bookshelves at the far end of the library. The man ran out and was caught by the porter. The other incident was when I had moved to the Cataloguing Department and was working in the main Catalogue Hall, when some girls spotted a young man, ostensibly checking the lower bookshelves – but he held a small mirror in his hand and was using it to look up the girls’ skirts. Again the porters came to the rescue.

There was a weekly meeting where the heads of each department met with the Chief Librarian to decide which books to buy and as I was a Sub-Librarian there were times when I had to stand in for the Local History Librarian at the meetings. It was terrifying – they were all so much older and more senior than me and the Chief Librarian was particularly scary – he didn’t suffer fools gladly! I was amazed when they actually listened to me and accepted my opinion on which books to buy. It certainly boosted my confidence. In fact working in the library was a huge confidence-building experience. Every so often we conducted tours of the library telling people what was available in each department which meant that I had to know what went on in each one. I struggled with the schoolchildren who were only there because their teachers had made them come -most of them weren’t interested and just used to giggle. But I loved showing the pre-retirement people round the library as they were so surprised that there was so much available and so interested in it all.

This must be one of the longest posts I’ve written and I’ve only scratched the surface of my memories. There were many happy times, working with books and people who love books. I loved working in each part of the library, meeting people, answering questions and finding books for them. The only drawback was that there was very little time to actually read the books or do any research myself.

Thank You

I want to say a very big thank you to all of those of you who expressed your sympathy at the news of my sister’s illness and death. Your thoughts and prayers were and are of great comfort to me. Friday was overwhelmingly sad. The church was full of my sister’s friends and colleagues – so many people expressed their sorrow at her death and their admiration for her love of life, enthusiasm and tireless work in the local community as a District Councillor. She will certainly be missed not only by our family but also by many other people, most of whom are unknown to me as she lived so far away.

Why I’ve Been Away from my Blog

These past few weeks I have been feeling very unreal and immensely sad. I haven’t had much time or inclination to write on my blog. My sister was diagnosed with lung cancer in November last year and despite radiotherapy and chemotherapy the cancer eventually spread  to her brain and she died on 4 August. She had good friends who supported and helped her throughout her illness, but she lived on her own and about 4 hours drive away from me. Although I knew her illness was terminal it was hard to accept that and the suddenness of it all has deeply shocked me. She was very upset and angry about the cancer and fought hard to combat it. Her funeral is on Friday and there is much to sort out. I’ll be back writing some time next week, I hope and although I have been reading in July and August I don’t think I can write much about any of the books I’ve read – much of it is a blur in my mind.

Saturday Scene

Today I finished reading Our Longest Days, 6 years of wartime diary entries from the start of the Second World War on 3rd September 1939 to its end in 1945. I feel as though I have emerged from the book with a much greater understanding of those years. More about the book maybe tomorrow.

The rain that was forecast again for today didn’t arrive this morning and this is what I saw looking out of the window. The cattle are back in the field opposite. I took the first photo through the window and you may be able to see a ghost in the hedge – that’s my reflection.

So I opened the window to get a better view and the bullock nearest the hedge spotted me. Here he is posing for the camera.

The rest of the cattle didn’t like the photoshoot and took off up the field.

The rain is here now, so it’s just as well we got some gardening in first and managed to shred the branches D had chopped off the pussy willow earlier in the week. It had got huge and was hanging over our neighbours’ roof. Shredding is a very satisfying job using a small woodchipper or hogger (as D calls it), although it’s a bit noisy.

Six Random Things

I’ve been tagged by Ashleigh to share six random things about myself.

Here are the rules:

· Link to the person that tagged you
· Post the rules somewhere in your meme
· Write the six random things
· Tag six people in your post
· Let the tagees know they’™ve been chosen by leaving a comment on their blog
· Let the tagger know your entry is posted

So here goes:

1.I wake up most mornings with the dawn chorus. The birdsong is just tremendous these days, it’s like an orchestra tuning up outside the bedroom window at about 4.00am. I usually doze off again but am awake before 6.00am again most days.

2.As a child I was scared of dogs. I wouldn’™t go anywhere where there was a dog if I could help it. Visiting friends and relatives with dogs was a nightmare; I wouldn’™t go in the house if a dog came rushing to the door or be in the same room if the dog was loose. I was just terrified ‘“ they were so big and boisterous with ferocious-looking teeth and deafening barks. No matter how much my parents and the dogs’™ owners tried to reassure me that the dogs wouldn’™t hurt me I didn’™t believe them. This continued as I grew older and I would cross the road if I saw a dog ahead of me on the same side.

My mother said she thought my fear stemmed from the time I was a baby and a barking dog jumped up to my pram. I think it also comes from the dog my grandfather kept tied up by his chair. I was scared of him as well as of his dog. He had a big bristly moustache and was very gruff and it seemed as though he barked himself when he spoke. My fear persisted, although I was able to control it better as I became older, until our son was five and started school. Both he and my husband wanted a dog and I ran out of excuses not to get one ‘“ and I didn’™t want my son to have the same phobia. So we got a Golden Retriever. She was a beautiful dog and helped me overcome my fears, so much so that a few years later we got another dog as well.

3.My first job was a Saturday job in a grocery when I was still at school. The owners, Mr and Mrs Davies, lived above the shop and kept a large Alsatian dog in the backyard. I used to wait for my friend to arrive to go in with her, as I was still scared of dogs. It was a very busy shop, especially in the morning. I used to sell the fancy cakes and bread. The chocolate cup cakes and cream cakes were my favourites. I used to like serving the cooked meats, but was a bit nervous of the meat slicer. When it was quiet, before closing time I had to stock up the bags of sugar, which were kept behind the freezer ‘“ there was just enough room to squeeze in and stock the shelves. I earned 12/6 each Saturday. Mrs Davies was very old-fashioned and used to ask if I was ‘œwalking out’ with a boy (I was).

4.I love natural yoghurt. I make my own and have some with my breakfast every day. The best yoghurt I’ve ever eaten was in Greece, but the Greek yoghurt I buy here just isn’t the same. My homemade yoghurt is nearly as good, though. I make it in a yoghurt maker and then strain it.

5.I don’™t have a head for heights and get dizzy just climbing a ladder. It’™s really difficult getting down again. This is not too bad as I don’t climb ladders very often (I’ve never been able to get up into our loft because of this) but it’s a real handicap coming down spiral staircases in castles and church towers, which I do like to explore.

6.I was in a car accident when I was 17. I smashed my head against the windscreen, had cuts all over my face and a few in my legs.but fortunately I only needed a few stitches in my forehead, chin and neck and have only slight scars, but three of my front teeth were broken and I had to have them crowned. I also bit right through my tongue which was very painful.

I’ve seen this on many blogs recently, but if you haven’t done it and would like to, please consider yourself tagged.

10 Signs a Book Has Been Written by Me ‘“ a Meme

Gautami has tagged me for this meme. As I haven’™t written a book this is difficult. If I were to write one, thinking optimistically, it would:

1.be historical fiction
2.be romantic
3.have a mystery to be solved
4.be philosophical
5.mythical
6.and mystical
7.focusing on the power of memories
8.and the intricacies of the mind
9.be well researched
10.and be a bestseller.

The only publication to my name (well my maiden name) is a bibliography on the ‘˜Massacre’™ of ‘˜Peterloo in 1819’™ that I compiled and was published by the library where I used to work. So more realistically my book would be:

1.non-fiction
2.well researched
3.structured and methodical
4.based on facts, not on assumptions
5.detailed, but clear and concise
6.analytical
7.referenced with footnotes, not endnotes.
8.It would have an extensive bibliography
9.and an index.
10.It would be a bestseller ‘“ I wish!

Gautami, you have no idea how long this has taken me, or how much thought has gone into this post. It has been a pipe-dream of mine to write a book. I have bought and borrowed many books on writing and nothing has come from my pen, or more recently my computer, that in any way, shape or form resembles a book! I’™m an expert at reading how to write fiction, but faced with doing any of those exercises they say will help to write a novel I dry up completely. It’™s like putting me in a group of people and being asked to name five interesting things about yourself that nobody could guess from looking at you. Or dividing up into little groups to discuss something and then reporting back to the big group – my mind goes blank immediately.

So at the end of all this I know that the book I would like to write is buried deep within me but will probably stay there, well hidden, too shy to come out. But on the other hand if it starts out on this computer, it may just begin to relax and make itself known ‘¦

I’™m supposed to tag another five people now. Stuckinabook, A Work In Progress, So Many Books, Of Books and Bicycles and In Spring It is the Dawn, I’™d love to see what you would write, so I’™m tagging you. Please let me know how you get on.