I had every good intention of visiting the library today. I know I haven’t been reading much of late and I fully intend to fix that! I created a list of 100 books I need to read, and a dent does indeed need to be made in said list! As a person can tell from reading these posts, I’m quite the list activist. But I digress.
Anyway… I was all set for heading out to the library when I checked it’s opening times and realised that if ever there was an inconvenient establishment in the area, it’s the local library. It closes at half five every evening, and I’d only be coming home from work then! As for the weekend, it’s only open til lunch on a Saturday. I don’t think libraries are half as appealing as one would imagine at 10am on a Saturday morning… I’d be in with the children’s book circle and I can’t see myself appreciating the library as much then as I would late evening. How impossible is the idea of a late night library? Or a 24 hour library. Now that would be brilliant. A 24 hour library with a small coffee counter in the corner, safely tucked away from the books. Only the regulars would know about it… You could go in at 3am, when all the town is sleeping, and rummage through the shelves til your heart was completely content. Then you’d find a gem, grab a coffee and find a nice chair to slouch into. I can’t see how a person wouldn’t be happy in a library like that! I do believe I’d live there. Add in a section on history, throw in a few local exhibitions on the walls, maybe add a room with a projector and a whole load of random films… preferably French… I’d be set. I’d die happy. And know what? I’d meet the love of my life at 3am over coffee in my big old 24 hour library. Now there’d be a story worthy of its shelves.
Now, aside from my 24 hour library rant, back to the initial point of this post – I, such a fan of libraries, old books and really anything with a bit of character, found myself at a loss as to where I’d find my old book fix given the incredibly inconvenient opening hours of my local library. So know what I decided to do? Search the attic. I figured that I may as well try my luck, and if I didn’t find some worthy story, I’d probably find something equally worthy of keeping me preoccupied. So up I went.
And nope, I didn’t find my book. I’d read everything we had up there. Though I did find my sewing machine! I’d been searching for it around the house, but it seems they’d hidden it away up under blankets and whatnot whilst I was away! So I took it down and spent a few hours messing about with it. I got it up and working and cleaned and all revved up to be used! So there’s the plan. Those clothes I intended on getting fixed up? I’m doing it myself. I used to do it all the time when I first got this machine, so really it’d be a shame if I didn’t start it up again. I’ll keep you posted.