book-tastic

HEADED for the university library yesterday - my first time, to see what it was like.  Signed in and went directly to online catalogue.  After I'd made a few jottings I noted the shelves which had the most related books on my topic (memory, what else?  Had you forgotten?).  When I finally found the part I wanted among the rows and rows of stacks I stood there for some time, gawping.  Shelves and shelves of books on memory, forgetfulness, memory and emotion, memory and attention...jiggled about trying to contain urge to go and grab a person and drag them to the shelves and squeak: Look!  Look at all these books!

Thankfully no one was in grabbing range.  I rationed myself to three books at a time and went and found a lovely desk by the window.  Entered realm of library bliss.  Definitely going back - this time with high energy food and covered drink (allowed in certain sections), a ruler - because I felt a strong desire to underline my headings (!), and some ear plugs - for when students' boyfriends/girlfriends come in and start whispering and giggling.  I'm used to general noise in the city library but constant whispering in an otherwise silent place is rather grating.  Cannot make notes and have fingers in both ears at the same time.

Unfortunately the tiredness hit rather hard after 2 hours, and I couldn't help feeling acute frustration on the way home, wishing I had the energy to stay longer.  As it is, I had to go and lie down and feel fairly useless in the afternoon.  That aside, it is a tremendous resource and I know I've barely skimmed the surface.


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library love

On Tuesday, after my usual dithering over energy levels (I always have to try and work out how much activity I can do each week) I took myself off to the city's central library.  It had been a long time since I'd managed to get there, but it was clear as soon as I was on the bus that it was a good thing to do.  I find working from home very difficult, in spite of the fact I've chosen to do so.  I often feel daunted each morning about sitting down and starting something, or I get distracted by other chores.  "Going out to work" is helpful for me, as long as I can come home when I get tired.

Initially I took myself down to the lower level and found myself a little booth to work in.  I love that feeling of privacy while still being aware of others around me.  I tentatively brought out my netbook and began to type up some notes I'd scribbled on the manuscript of my book.  It was the first time I'd taken the netbook "out to work" with me since I got it for my birthday last year.

The library is part of a larger building, which includes an art gallery (with small shop) and cafe, as well as being attached to the guildhall and civic centre.  Basically, everything I need is in one place - more energy saving, which is important.  I took myself for a coffee break in the cafe, bagging a sofa and reading an interesting article about a certain tribe in one of the many copies of National Geographic.  Alas, it became apparent I would need to visit the ladies before I'd finished the article (National Geographic articles tend to be long!).  The ladies, of course, was just across the corridor and then I slipped back into the library, this time heading upwards, to check out the Religion section.

I immediately discovered some helpful tomes among the various dictionaries of theology and Christian thought and, finding myself a little table under a window, I proceeded to spend the rest of my time taking notes on an interesting and highly pertinent (to my research) article on memory.  The view was not terribly inspiring (although I believe they are doing some work on the building in front), but if I leaned slightly to the left I could see the saplings in the new Square, and watch pedestrians wander to and fro.  It felt nice to sit in the window, anyway.

The next window along contained a man perched with a book in front of him; he wasn't reading it.  He was asleep for the whole time I sat there, occasionally uttering little peaceful snores.  He stirred at one point, but then settled himself back down.  I'm not convinced he ever intended to read the book.

Reluctantly realising I needed to leave in order to have energy for the rest of the day, I caught a different bus home.

I don't drive - time, health and money have never had the right convergence. Health is the most problematic of all when it comes to learning to drive, although I have had some lessons.  Alas, I would come home shaking with exhaustion which lasted for a week - until the next lesson. 

Buses are important for my sense of independence.  It's only 15p more for a day ticket now than it is for a return to the city, and it frees me up to hop on whatever bus I want.  It took me an unfamiliar and therefore interesting route before dropping me off less than 10 minutes from home.

A very satisfactory morning (although I was very tired in the afternoon) - but possibly a boring blog post!

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a little exploring...

Today I explored the central library. I'd only been to the smaller, local ones before so it was good to find somewhere bigger. Not having grown up very near a city, the country girl in me thought it was enormous! Although the market town near the village I grew up did have a reasonably large library, now I think about it. I think it's because this one's in the town Guildhall and everything is very open plan - over three floors - which gives a feeling of space. It's also very light, with light-reflecting colours adding to the sensation.

I found myself a booth - ooh! a booth! - and examined the magazines available, taking a few notes. I had my current modules from the Writers' Bureau with me, but didn't end up looking at them there. I found the latest edition of the Writers' Forum magazine and spent some time browsing through that in my zone of peace. Apart from that 10 minutes where someone was drilling the other side of the wall! Thankfully they didn't keep at it for long.

There was a good feeling about the place and everyone seemed very cheerful - plus a coffee shop in the same place. I sat in there during what would be my normal 'rest stop 1' and gazed out of the window at the fountain and bronzing trees. A lady came up and said 'would you like the newspaper dear?' I wasn't really bothered, but it was sweet she had asked.

I walked back down towards the bus stop, pondering the fact I've lived in the area 5 years but never been in the main central library before. We think of 'exploring' as something dramatic and farflung - 'deepest, darkest Peru', to use a cliche - but what do we forget to explore in our own local area? How many things have we simply discounted because we haven't realised they were even there?

Perhaps we should make exploring a weekly, even daily habit. Finding the new, in the midst of the familiar.