SHORT STUFF -- JULY 26, 2014

Sat., July 26, 10:53 AM

On Thursday the Bookmobile came by, for the first time in two months. Joe, the driver/clerk was on vacation, and he has been the only person in charge of the books, the truck, and the relations with borrowers. I had let him know via email that I would be only returning books because I’m leaving town.

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Joe had news too; he is retiring. The misguided director, who knows nothing about libraries and less about readers, is not planning on replacing him. Her intention is to notify all the users of the Bookmobile, including the senior centers, that they will have to walk to one of the libraries. If they can’t walk, they will have to get a note from their physician.

She must be taking her cue from Customer Relations at the phone company.

The phone company, with whom I must do business in order to connect to security in the new apartment, made me change my number but would not allow me to change the name on the account. Fine — except that a letter came yesterday, addressed to my husband, welcoming him as a new customer at the old address. My landline (along with the telephone) is now at my apartment, and I refuse to spend my remaining minutes on my mobile phone to wait on the telephone tree. I shall just stew until I get a ride over there, by which time I shall wring (or ring) their necks.

Saturday morning, and the first wave of movers is at work. It would probably be better if I weren’t here at all. The U.D. is at her house, putting away what she can and preparing for the big stuff. The Gentleman is here, supervising the movers.

They seem very efficient, but they won’t be able to move my things. Movers to the apartment need to have insurance; these guys just do this on their own as a second job.

I have maybe a dozen pieces of furniture and a bunch of boxes, and I will bet that my move will cause more difficulty than all the rest.

My child, incidentally, got all weepy and said she didn’t want to go. It’s kindergarten all over again.

I have gone outside on the deck a few times, just to listen to the birds — which seem to be back — and to smell the clover. I think those floods must have washed away the insecticides and the herbicides. I suppose it’s an ill wind that blows no good at all.

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