We are in the process of orienting our new librarian hire! Yeah! How wonderful to start handing off those lists of projects waiting for the right person to fill the bill. But now, we are saying goodbye to our Evening & Reserves Supervisor who has decided to do his Library Science degree at my alma mater, UIUC. (Yes, I absolutely bragged about how wonderful the program is there!)
We posted and within a week I had ample applicants, and the pool is stellar. Such perfect matches, complete with the expertise we need. They will quickly be able to pick up and run with the systems and processes we need overseen. This is exciting. The pool for this job is usually not great because the hours are so late. Who wants to get off work after midnight?
Today we met the first interviewee. She was delightful. And astute. If all the candidates are this stellar, we will have a hard time selecting just one. Thank you, Lord, for the encouragement. Perhaps this fall will not be so challenging after all.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
The Bike's Finally Back!
Did you call? I ask Drew. I am struggling to provide the transportation support he needs to get to driver's ed and back. I really ought not to be taking extra time from work to ferry him about, and with his wounds, he hasn't been able to walk really.
No. I understand his reticence to assert his right as a paying customer and insist that they treat him better. Two weeks to fix a slightly out of shape bike is too long. Call. I insist. Better to learn to be bold now when the stakes are not high. He calls. He beams from ear to ear. Yes, it is ready. After work, he drives us to the place (my heart in my throat), and I make him go in by himself. I sit in the car. Besides I am still pretty wrung out from Sunday's fiasco.
I watch people wandering in and out of the sporting goods store, amazed at how many overweight people go in there. Of course, I have no leg to stand on. At least they are trying to take up some sport. Soon Drew comes out with the bike and I do not offer to help him mount the bike rack and hook the bike down. He manages quite competently. I rest.
He drives back, but the speed on 390 is a bit much on the bike and we are both nervous, so he exits earlier and we wend our way home at a more reasonable pace. He gleefully recites out loud all the places he can now go without having to wait for a ride. The Library, the store, class - isn't it amazing how mobile a little thing like a bike can make you!
I am happy for him. I am happy for me. I am relieved that the darn thing was fixable and all is well. Then I hear him plotting about how he will go pick up his car - once he is able to save up enough money to buy one after he gets a job . . .
No. I understand his reticence to assert his right as a paying customer and insist that they treat him better. Two weeks to fix a slightly out of shape bike is too long. Call. I insist. Better to learn to be bold now when the stakes are not high. He calls. He beams from ear to ear. Yes, it is ready. After work, he drives us to the place (my heart in my throat), and I make him go in by himself. I sit in the car. Besides I am still pretty wrung out from Sunday's fiasco.
I watch people wandering in and out of the sporting goods store, amazed at how many overweight people go in there. Of course, I have no leg to stand on. At least they are trying to take up some sport. Soon Drew comes out with the bike and I do not offer to help him mount the bike rack and hook the bike down. He manages quite competently. I rest.
He drives back, but the speed on 390 is a bit much on the bike and we are both nervous, so he exits earlier and we wend our way home at a more reasonable pace. He gleefully recites out loud all the places he can now go without having to wait for a ride. The Library, the store, class - isn't it amazing how mobile a little thing like a bike can make you!
I am happy for him. I am happy for me. I am relieved that the darn thing was fixable and all is well. Then I hear him plotting about how he will go pick up his car - once he is able to save up enough money to buy one after he gets a job . . .
Monday, August 1, 2011
Junebug Song
Maybe you call them locusts. Whatever they are, they are already going at it hale and hearty when I awaken at the crack of dawn. The drilling insistence of their complaint tells me it will be a hot and muggy day. Maybe worse than even the last few days. I flip through my wardrobe, seeking something that will allow me to be comfortable in the dripping wetness of outdoors, but amply protected against the exuberance of the air conditioning that turns my office into a deep freeze.
Ah. A dress. I am not in the habit of wearing such things. In fact, until recently, I no longer even owned a dress. I have had to play unfeminine roles for so long that I have lost touch with my gentle side. When I was praying one day, it seemed the Lord was encouraging me to get back in touch with that. Apparently I have a hard edge that needs to be softened.
So I scanned sales fliers for awhile, and took a bit of time trying on current styles. Yuck. I don't care for the stuff out there. Tight, short, uncomfortable. Not exactly a garb you can nurture in. Shoot, you can hardly walk in some of those deals. Eventually I found a style I could embrace, and purchased 2. The first time I wore one, I was shocked at the difference it made. Not only was I a bit less aggressive, but people reacted to me quite differently. I'm not quite sure what to make of it, but I am gradually recalling hugging little children and not being the "take charge and bark commands" person.
I know it sounds silly. But I need to follow this through and see where it goes, what I need to recapture inside. And I had forgotten that in the summer, a dress can be cooler than pants. Another benefit. So today I select the plaid seersucker, hook Sugar to the leash, and wander outside for a closer listen to those heat indicators whose persistent dissonance takes me back to another era and the quiet stability of my grandmother's place where the junebugs accompanied the morning trip to the tree stump by the kitchen window where Gram deposited the leftover oatmeal for the critters.
Maybe it won't be too hot to enjoy the day after all.
Ah. A dress. I am not in the habit of wearing such things. In fact, until recently, I no longer even owned a dress. I have had to play unfeminine roles for so long that I have lost touch with my gentle side. When I was praying one day, it seemed the Lord was encouraging me to get back in touch with that. Apparently I have a hard edge that needs to be softened.
So I scanned sales fliers for awhile, and took a bit of time trying on current styles. Yuck. I don't care for the stuff out there. Tight, short, uncomfortable. Not exactly a garb you can nurture in. Shoot, you can hardly walk in some of those deals. Eventually I found a style I could embrace, and purchased 2. The first time I wore one, I was shocked at the difference it made. Not only was I a bit less aggressive, but people reacted to me quite differently. I'm not quite sure what to make of it, but I am gradually recalling hugging little children and not being the "take charge and bark commands" person.
I know it sounds silly. But I need to follow this through and see where it goes, what I need to recapture inside. And I had forgotten that in the summer, a dress can be cooler than pants. Another benefit. So today I select the plaid seersucker, hook Sugar to the leash, and wander outside for a closer listen to those heat indicators whose persistent dissonance takes me back to another era and the quiet stability of my grandmother's place where the junebugs accompanied the morning trip to the tree stump by the kitchen window where Gram deposited the leftover oatmeal for the critters.
Maybe it won't be too hot to enjoy the day after all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)