The Library Is My New Best Friend

I've finally started going to the library again.  I used to go all the time when I was a kid, but since I moved here to Myrtle Beach, I never seemed to have the time.  One of the first things I did when I moved here was get a library card, and yet I've only just used it in the past few weeks.  My excuses before were that it was too much of a hassle to have to worry about the library's hours of operation, due dates and late fees and whether they would have the book I wanted, etc.  Since I tend to re-read my favorite books, I also used that as an excuse to buy the books I wanted to read instead of checking them out from the library for free. 

Since I've been unemployed these several past months, I've been prohibiting myself from unnecessary purchases, especially books.  I have to look away every time I walk past the book section at Walmart, lest the gravitation pull of literary wonder drag me to my financial doom.  I've rarely been able to resist buying an armload of books, even when I tell myself I'm just looking, or that I'm only going to buy one book.  Yeah, right!  That's like eating one doughnut.  Impossible!  Now that I've got all this time on my hands, I decided I didn't have to worry about due dates and such for the library.  I have more than enough time to read a few books and get them back on time.  I went the first time and was pleasantly surprised to hear that I had four weeks before they were due back!  Have libraries extended the amount of time you can have a book out?  I had assumed it would have to be returned in two weeks.  I left with an armload of books, which I devoured greedily.  I then made a list of several more books I wanted to check out on my next trip and took a canvas bag with me to help carry them.  As I walked among the bookshelves, snatching books from the shelves as if I was on a grand shopping spree, I felt giddy with my good fortune.  I'd forgotten how glorious it is to choose books without worrying about how much it would cost me, without having to curb my lust for books, books, and more books!  After my second trip (with my canvas bag filled to overflowing), I approached the circulation desk and asked the lady at the counter if there was a limit on how many books I could check out at once.  The answer? FIFTY!  Whoa Nelly!  I think I'm safe.  :)  I made quick work of that second batch of books and am now enjoying working my way through the 9 books I currently have checked out. 

I've started thinking of it as "my" library, and I get a bit miffed when I go in and one of the books I want is already checked out.  And it pains me to see how poorly some people treat their books.  Dog-eared pages, bent covers, unidentified gunk sticking the pages together.  It's appalling.  I have books I've read a half a dozen times that barely have the hint of creasing along the spine.  Some of the paperbacks at the library have been so abused and the spine creased and broken so often that you can no longer even read the name of the book.  It hurts my heart to see how carelessly they are cared for. 

I'm going to be so sad when I finally get a job and won't have all this time to read and visit the library.  But I'm going to enjoy it while I can!

PhotoHunt: Spotted

The pebbles and rocks on this black sand beach look like spots upon spots!  This was taken at Wainapanapa Beach State Park on Maui.

A beautifully spotted and speckled Whale Shark off the shore of Maui.  This curious friend came by to get a peek at our boat as we were out on a whale watching tour. 

PhotoHunt

It's Back!

Okay, my counter is back again.  However it seems to have started over from scratch.  It says I've only had 35 visitors.  :(  Weird...

Dude, Where's My Counter?

My visitor counter has been kidnapped!  I noticed the other day that it wasn't showing at the bottom of my blog, and thought at first that it was just not loading properly or something.  But now it's been a few days and it still isn't showing.  The HTML is still sitting pretty on my layout page, but there's no sign of it anywhere else.  I'm pretty bummed.  Does this mean I have to install a new one and start over with my count?  I was so excited to have finally had over 2,000 visitors.  That probably sounds like peanuts to most of you, but I've only been blogging since November and I had assumed it would be a year or so before I had that many visitors.  I don't even care if those visitors were repeats.  It still counts! 

So has this happened to anyone else before?  Any ideas on how to get my counter back?  I miss it.  :(

Dream Day Friday! The Magic Scissors

Magic Scissors are awesome.  If I had a real pair of these, I'd be a cutting fool!  The idea for this was actually shop-lifted from a former coworker of mine.  She was from Russia, and I'm not sure if this was a fairy tale-type story that gets told to the Russian kids, or if she just made it up herself.  Either way, this is now one of my favorite day-dreaming tools! 

You're probably wondering what could be so great about a pair of scissors.  My friends, Magic Scissors are even better than having a genie in a magic lamp.  With these scissors, you can cut out pictures of things you want, and POOF!  Those objects are now real and in your possession!  Legally! Do you see a picture of a fabulous car that you'd love to own?  Just cut the picture out and it's all yours.  Do you see how much fun this could be? 

Now, according to my coworker's story, I think you are supposed to cut out the picture in its entirety.  But that's amateur day-dreaming.  You could seriously limit the possibilities with that rule.  What if the picture doesn't show the whole car? What if a third of the car is cut off the page?  Then you'd only get part of the car, and where's the fun in that?  So MY Magic Scissors have a few extra special qualities.  All you have to do is make a cut into the picture.  If the scissors cut any part of the picture of the object you want, it's yours.  This is also helpful if you find one picture of something you want, but you'd really like more than one.  Like money!  There are some things you just can't really use Magic Scissors to get, and you need actual money.  (I know, right?  What's this world coming to?)  In this case you can just trek on over to a magazine stand and find the financial magazines.  Flip through them until you find one with some good pictures of cash, and then buy that magazine.  (No stealing or cutting up magazines that don't belong to you!)  Then when you get home - or into your car, or as soon as you step away from the cash register - you can start slicing into the pictures of cash.  Being a practical person, I would like to have the Magic Scissors deposit the cash directly into my checking account.  Then I could just pop by the ATM whenever I needed cash.

And of course my Magic Scissors are intuitive and can sort of read my mind and know what I want.  So if I've got a friend who's been out of work and is struggling to pay the bills, I can slice into some money pictures and have my Magic Scissors magically deposit the cash into my friend's checking account.  I don't even need to know their bank account number or even where they bank.  My Magic Scissors will know all that for me.  Pretty sweet, huh?  Know what else?  The Magic Scissors know exactly what size clothes you wear, so if you find a fabulous item of clothing or a pair of shoes you just have to have, snip away and they will be yours, and a perfect fit no less.

One of my favorite ways to imagine using the Magic Scissors is when I'm flipping through the latest issue of Homes & Land and perusing the multi-million dollar estates in Hawaii.  I would make a little snip into one of the pictures, but my Magic Scissors will know I want the whole estate, not just that one shingle or the palm tree or whatever. Yet at the same time, if I want to Frankenstein an estate from parts of several different ones, I could do that too if I wanted. 

I love you, Magic Scissors!

Photo found here.

New Earthquake Hits Haiti

Haiti has been hit by another large earthquake.  This aftershock measured 6.1 on the Richter scale and has done even more damage to the already damaged and fragile city of Port-au-Prince.  How much more can this poor country take? 

Find the news article here.

School Memories: The Kindergarten Years* (Part II)

I mentioned in my first kindergarten memory post that while most of the memories are happy ones, there is one that had a long-lasting, negative impact on me.  This private school I attended allowed teachers to spank the students with a wooden paddle.  They didn't even have to be sent to the principal!  This is not a good idea.  Would you send your child to a school where any teacher having a bad day or a bad year can take out their frustrations on your child?  I don't remember any other spankings I may have gotten at school and can't tell you how many there may have been.  But there was one instance I have never been able to forget. 

I was in class with all my fellow students when Mrs. Browder, my teacher, had to leave the room for several minutes.  She left the door open, and while we tried to remain quiet, of course being only 5 years old we weren't completely successful.  At one point, I was talking to the girl next to me and admiring her dress, which had a tiny, soft velvet bow at her neckline.  Five-year-old girls like soft things.  I felt her little bow and for some reason was really impressed with it and decided to express myself by yelling "Mommy!"  I know, it doesn't make any sense.  But the point is not what I said, but the fact that I said that one word loudly enough for the teacher across the hall to hear me and become irate with me.  She stormed over to our classroom and asked who it was who made that noise.  Being an honest person, I raised my hand.  This woman was one of the Mean Teachers that every student dreads. Her name was Mrs. Parsley, and I don't think I ever saw her smile. She pulled me out of the classroom and dragged me into another room.  It was probably just an empty classroom, but I remember it as being a dark storage closet.  She pulled my dress up and spanked me quite harshly with her wooden paddle. 

After she paddled me, she marched me into her classroom of 2nd graders and made me stand in front of all of those big kids, my face tear-stained and my feelings sorely abused.  (Not to mention my posterior!)  I had to apologize to all those older students for disrupting their class.  I was always a shy child, so this was extremely humiliating and stressful for me.  Even if I had been there for a positive reason, it would have been embarrassing.  And to have to do this in front of the big kids, with tears streaming down my face?  Horrifying.  This woman wasn't even my teacher!  I said ONE WORD loudly enough for her to hear.  She caused more of a disruption to her class with her attack on me than I could have possibly caused with my actions. 

At the time, being as young as I was, I had no idea how inappropriate her actions were.  She was a teacher, an adult, a figure of authority.  It never even occurred to me to tell my parents.  After I was older, I realized just how inappropriate her actions were.  She should have waited for MY teacher to return and told her what I did and let Mrs. Browder discipline me as she saw fit.  She shouldn't have been allowed to grab any random child in passing and lay her hands on them because she felt entitled to do so.  (I wonder how many other students she disciplined who weren't her responsibility.  She probably kicked puppies too.)  I'm assuming she told Mrs. Browder what transpired, but I don't remember her ever speaking to me about it.  If she did, it didn't bear remembering.  I would recall the event often as I grew older, and knew that I was still angry about it.  I have always been grateful that my parents moved me and my brothers to public school after I finished 1st grade, so I never had to have Mrs. Parsley as my teacher!  I never realized how deeply I was affected by this event until sometime during college. 

My extended family was having a 4th of July get-together at the lake.  My grandmother, who still went to the church that was affiliated with the school I attended, invited Mrs. Parsley to the party!  I didn't even know they were friends, but I can tell you that even a bazillion years after I had last seen that woman, I recognized her on the spot.  (I could probably sense her evil aura pulsating through the hot summer air as dark storm clouds appeared out of nowhere to blanket the sun.) I can't begin to tell you how ambushed I felt to see her there.  My own grandmother brought the enemy into our camp!  I had to politely greet this woman when all I wanted to do was toss her into the lake.  And even then, I still thought I was only offended and angry.  As everyone else was outside enjoying the beautiful day, my mom and I went into the house to make some banana pudding.  We were talking and I decided to relate to her the story of that horrible day back in kindergarten.  I started telling her the story, and promptly burst into tears.  Big tears of anger and humiliation that I had apparently still been harboring.  That stupid woman had scarred me! My mom was understandably upset and wished I had told her then.  If only I had thought to do so, I may have gotten over it sooner.

That my dear readers, is my worst school memory.

*Despite the title of these posts, I only spent one year in kindergarten.  But "The Kindergarten Year" just sounded wrong. 

Photo found here.