Just say no

NO!

No sun - no moon!
No morn - no noon -
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day -
No sky - no earthly view -
No distance looking blue -
No road - no street - no "t'other side the way" -
No end to any Row -
No indications where the Crescents go -
No top to any steeple -
No recognitions of familiar people -
No courtesies for showing 'em -
No knowing 'em!
No traveling at all - no locomotion -
No inkling of the way - no notion -
"No go" - by land or ocean -
No mail - no post -
No news from any foreign coast -
No park - no ring - no afternoon gentility -
No company - no nobility -
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member -
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,
November!

By Thomas Hood

Crushing prejudices

Up until last Thursday, I wouldn't in my wildest dreams have thought I'd ever go to the opera. For as long as I can remember, my perception of opera have been the idea of something incredibly boring, some fat lady screaming so loud that her horrible caws would break every breakable glass in a miles radius, with words I would be completely unable to decipher.

Then Thursday happened. A childhood friend of mine and I had bought discount tickets to Mozart's La clemenza di Tito. Being on my way to become a promoter of culture (high culture, low culture and everything-in-between culture), I thought I'd give opera a go. It must be added that I suspected I would not enjoy it.

But I did enjoy it! In fact I loved it! And the following day I bought 4 hours of opera "favourites" in the music store, that I have been listening to ever since.

A book-lover horror story

Exams are getting closer, curricular books are to be read. Developing library and information center collections by Evans and Saponaro can be considered a nail-biting thriller for delicate souls. The following excerpt about finding the suitable person for deselection (and purging) in libraries made me shiver:

"The [collection development] teacher insisted that there was only one possible test to determine a person's suitability for becoming a collection development officer. Candidates would visit a doctor's office, where office staff would immediately take the candidate's blood pressure. The doctor would then hand the candidate a new book and tell the person to rip out one page and throw the book in the wastebasket. If the candidate's blood pressure rose above the initial reading, he or she would fail the test."
(Evans, p. 302.)

I feel a strong oncoming nausea every time I see someone bending the covers or the back of a book into any unnatural position, and if I see someone making a dog's ear, be sure I'm close to fainting!

Collection development officer suitability test result for Willow: Failed.

A thought experiment

A Buddhist monk has no money. Not by injunction, but by choice. He owns a very limited number of things: a robe, a pair of sandals, a rice bowl, a walking stick and a straw mat to sleep on. He spends hours and hours meditating, sitting on the same spot in the shadows of a banyan tree. Nothing can bring him out of his spiritual travel. He's balanced. He's pacifist. He's wise. And if he gets hungry, he walks with his fellow companions down to civilization where the population sees it as their duty and an honour to help by putting rice and vegetables into his rice bowl.

This kind of lifestyle could probably not be lived in the western world, because paradoxically one would most likely starve. Jumping off a way too fast-spinning life, admittedly sounds tempting. I'm not convinced I would be less happy if I gave away everything I had and started a life more in pact with nature.

A plant with long prickles. Sometimes used as a hat

"Can anyone see what this man wears on top of his head?" Willow asked the kindergarten children after a successful picture book theatre presentation. Her teacher had sent her and the rest of the librarians-to-be on a self chosen fieldtrip to promote a piece of contemporary literature.

"A cactus!!!" The boy with the superman shirt exclaimed. "It's a cactus," another boy repeated thrilled. "Willow, what is a cactus?" A girl with long blond hair wanted to know. Naturally Willow could not compete with the velocity of two enthusiastic five year old boys who were more than willing to explain.

"It's a plant with long prickles. One time I hurt myself touching it! Ouuuuu!" The girl didn't seem to listen to him. "Wiilloooooow," she screamed. "What is a cactus?"

Of course the little girl already knew what a cactus was; she just wanted Willow's attention. Like most of the kindergarten children did. Before she got to answer, a whirlwind had taken the curious girl away, and she could be seen jumping in the corner with some of her friends. The thought of cacti had apparently disappeared.

A trip to the kindergarten means lots of noise, lots of questions (and incredible stories) at high speed and a great deal of fun!

Morning ritual

The old fisherman turns on his portable radio. He eats his bread and drinks his coffee in silence. He doesn't seem to notice his wife who is doing her kitchen chores.

"The Vesterålsbank: Variable for 4 or 5. Rain. Moderate. From this evening westerly force 6, Tuesday becoming southwest near gale force 7. Scattered showers, otherwise good."

The monotone voice on the stately channel number one has the fisherman's full attention.

"Outer Vestfiord: Becoming westerly force 6, later near gale force 7. Rain, later some showers. Moderate. Tuesday becoming risk of westerly or southwest gale force 8. Scattered showers, otherwise good."

The fisherman puts on his woollen socks, his rubber boots and his oilskin. Lighting his old-fashioned tobacco pipe, he tells his wife good-bye with a small nod and leaves the house.

The weather forecast is never indifferent to a fisherman.

Presumption

My cellular phone rang on Saturday evening. The caller's number was not familiar to me. "Hello?" I answered. "Hi, is this Willow?" a female voice asked. I had to admit it was. "I have this really great thing to offer you," she exclaimed energetically. "Do you have any children?"

Obviously she had done some cross references between my name, my number, my age and what she considered the appropriate moment for having children.

The lady wanted to offer me this marvellously wonderful super-fantastic-special-price-for-you membership in a book-club for children. When she heard my answer and discovered that sometimes cross references don't give you the desired result, she almost sounded sad. Lost profit for her. Maybe even a waste of her time.

I guess you could say this was my debut at motherhood. Sudden and unexpected. The magic works of time.

Fire!

04:17 am. Willow was fast asleep. 04:18 am. Willow was woken up by a repetitive loud noise. Being halfway sub-conscious, she didn't first understand what it was. Then she gathered that it was the fire alarm. She asked herself why on earth they needed to have a fire-drill in the middle of the night, and that even on a Saturday. Putting on some clothes, she ran down all the 183 steps to the main floor. Getting down to the second floor, she smelled (and saw) smoke. Gathering with the rest of the tenants outside the building, she realized that it might not be a fire drill after all. And that she had made a big mistake forgetting that it was winter outside in her sub-conscious choice of clothing... Two large fire engines filled with smoke divers arrived, the police came and even the ambulance. At 04:51 Willow (now having turned blue with cold) and the rest were allowed to go back inside.

Cause of drama: 2 burning sausages that someone had left on the stove unattended on the second floor.