Seeing Things

 

Blue bites,

 

stacks of wonder,

 

paper cuts,

 

Color across pages through afternoon rain and thunder.

 

Growing kit.

 

Just when you think no one is looking...

 

while the walls are vibrating. Harmony, melody, two by two.

 

You look over your shoulder and can't recognize what's behind you.

It's been a hectic fall thus far. At the library, at home, and all around. I feel as though I've been caught in a storm the past month or so, but can finally see it breaking on the horizon. Other than the sleep I've been missing, I've also missed being here. Writing here. It's been a natural part of my schedule for over two years now and when I don't make the time for it, the effect is similar to when I don't get my cup of coffee in the morning. It's not a good situation. For me, or for anyone in close proximity.

I first started writing this post four weeks ago and already so much has changed. L even looks so much different than the pictures above. I was going to scrap it, but decided against it. I thought you might like to give it a read regardless. For those of you who visit frequently, thank you for your patience in my absence. And if you're here for the first time, thank you for visiting. Have some tea and enjoy your stay. I'm back and there's a lot coming your way!

Seeing Things

Shallow waters.

Recommended reading.

Crimson petals.

Summer in a bottle.

Pipe cleaners and popcorn.

Weatherized library style.

Bee in a buggy.

Fan mail.

Evening river walk.

Looking up.

Growing up.

We are nearing the end of the summer. A majority of the kids that frequent the library have gone back to school. I've switched from working my summer schedule of longer hours to my school year schedule of nights and weekends. Summer school ended two weeks ago for Will and fall semester will start Monday. It's back to being just L and I during the daytime. We are transitioning.

The illustration of a women to reading to children is from an article written by Elizabeth Bird in School Library Journal about becoming and being a children's public librarian. The article is available to read online here.

The picture of a table full of pipe cleaners is from the library's last bash of the summer, celebrating summer reading participation. The the street was blocked off, and people enjoyed live music outside, the kids made a couple different crafts including this crown craft and there was free kettle corn, cotton candy, and hotdogs.

I summer-ized of my uniform. Snip, snip! Because I felt sleeves just wasn't an option at 103 degrees.

Speaking of attire, L's preferred accoutrement is a slightly-too-small bumble bee garment.

I received a postcard from a storytime fan. All the way from Vancouver. Now that is a library.

Made. my. day.

Lawrence is slowly starting to fill up, as university towns do the August before class starts. Young people are everywhere. They are younger every year.

Now before I go, I want to take you back for a moment. Now look at that last image.

Go back again if you'd like.

My baby mine.

Summer Skies

When the summer starts to stretch into August, blue skies start to become cluttered with sunflowers. Reaching up and out, tall and proud, flexing their fingers these golden sun worshipers, declaring their love of light. When a breeze blows through off the plains, they shake and sway, entranced in dance.

I look up, they look away.

 Summer skies in Kansas.

Seeing Things

Love is all you need...

Love and libraries...

And music.

And coffee.

Evening pool haze.

Wheels turning.

Castle making.

Cool dips.

Placid waters.

Fire in the sky.

Summer slumbers.

Warm celebrations.

Hovering planets.

How he sees me.

Sunday morning, Sunday afternoon.

Midsummer latelys... Triple digit heat, librarying, reading, lots of reading, Lawrence to Ludington, MI and back, pool trips, lake dips, kiddo's birthday, crafting, more reading. Repeat.

Seeing Things

Chalking it up.

Summer reading.

Barefeet.

Back-alley walks.

Sillies.

Diamond Jubilee in the heartland.

Familiar friends.

Light and shadows.

Wish-ready.

Wearable masterpieces.

Slow strolls.

A chance of rain.

Market mornings.

Purple rain... err... snow.

Early morning dips in the backyard watering hole.

Today is the summer solstice, the longest day of light, the official start to the dog days of summer. But for public libraries, summer starts when school is out, so it seems as though we are already mid-summer when the official summer start day arrives. Busy and wonderful all at the same time. When I'm not with L, or working at the library, or here, I'm nursing a mild sunburn, nose in a book. Hello summer.