Warm fire, cold feet
I am sitting in my favorite desk in my favorite public library. I am in the corner by the window, outside of which is a swath of daffodils, drooping in the cold rain. On my left is the fireplace flaming merrily and taking the chill out of this wintry April day. My papers are lighted by an eye-friendly lamp. It is infinitely more pleasant to be here than under the harsh fluorescent buzz of my brutalist university library. And you know what else is better? They have a microfilm reader that actually works and doesn’t sound like a dying cow. And it has a printer that is not 10 cents a page but totally free. Given the reaction of the librarian who showed me where to find it, I’m guessing they can afford to make it free. I don’t think it’s been used in quite some time. Now if only someone would bring me a pot of tea and some dry socks, this really would be the perfect place to work.
Yes, my microfilm finally arrived yesterday. It wasn’t as long as I’d hoped, but it is quite meaty (and also written by someone with a serious sense of humor) and I’m looking forward to spending some time with it today. It’s a history of one of the groups I’m studying, written after the group and ceased to exist by one of its members. It’s very chatty, full of anecdotes and pictures of the ensemble at various points in its history, although the last picture, labeled, “The Sole Survivors,” and showing three ancient looking peasants stooped over their instruments, appears to be a joke. And a pretty funny one at that. Maybe you had to be there.
Of course, my brain is still worrying about the school stuff, but things are moving as fast as they can. I’m mostly trying to keep this drama over at AJ’s Clubhouse, but given the amount of head space it’s taking up at the moment, that doesn’t give me a lot to write about here. It would be a lot more dramatic, I’m sure, if it weren’t for all the helpful comments and advice I’ve gotten from many of you. Going through something like this, it helps when people occasionally tell you that you’re not crazy.