Last Day of February 2010, with a St. Bernard and a Goat

This has been quite a year so far. It came on with a fierceness like the White Tiger's pouncing attack and play. It came to my home and family, my neighborhood, my community, and my library work from many directions, from the snapping teeth of winter to the growling threats of something predatory lurking just beyond my door.

Oftentimes in such challenging days and nights, a person can feel shell-shocked and unsettled. I think of the Haitians and Chileans who look to the sky and sea and earth, waiting for the next strike. How many years will it take to feel secure again? How many years before the anxious worry abates enough to experience a deep, restful sleep?

Personally, a similar sense of fragility exists around my jobs' budgets. What once was accepted is now coveted. It seeps into my daily finances, and, as with all my neighbors, affects our future spending decisions regarding the new car, a vacation, how to afford our children's tuition. I work two to three part-time jobs and have no health insurance, and I consider myself lucky as I move from day to day, week to week, and look forward to a new month.

March may come in as a lion tomorrow, and with it, the promise of a calm, warm spring in just 21 days (well, I know that is the equinox, but it's nice to have a date to look forward to).

I believe that in these next three weeks something good is going to happen, and this is why:

This morning, after taking my puppy for a walk and getting the laundry going, I zipped to the store and then to drop in on a friend I hadn't seen in a while. I needed a shoulder to cry on and sound advice from this level-headed woman. After cups of herbal tea (from Seattle) and a good visit (thanks Joan!), I was ready to get on home. I took the back way; it is a scenic, Sunday drive road. As I moved past the apple orchard, I saw two animals crossing the road in the distance. At first I thought these were deer, but as I neared, I saw that the one in front was a St. Bernard and following, a dark gray goat.

The goat had stopped although the huge dog seemed to try to get the goat to follow it up the snowy drift. But the goat bleated and protested as it stood in the ongoing traffic's lane. Luckily there was very little by way of cars at this time of day on a Sunday.

I slowed and pulled up beside her and rolled down my window. The goat immediately turned and looked me right in the eyes and bleahed at me.

"Hey now," I said, always believing that animals somehow understand our tone if not our words. "Get off the road," said, shooing it with a wave of my hand. "Go on. It's not safe here."

"Bleah," said the goat with a tremolo effect as she took a couple of rapid steps toward me. So much for understanding.

Just then, the huge St. Bernard then lumbered off the snow bank and headed toward me at a trot. I immediately thought "Cujo." My heart picked up its pace and my hand reached for the button to quickly move the window up. By then another car was in view behind me, so I thought I'd just get going, that they had probably noticed this event. Sure enough, while I tooled on down the road I saw the silver Volvo slow down and come to a stop by the pair. It wasn't long before they, too, followed me down the road.

Why Did I Do This Puppy Thing?

It's not like I am asking this question out of desperation or any regrets. On the contrary, I'm literally amazed about what this "puppy path" has done for me. From my innermost place where there are no words, I finally began to form some coherent realizations to my "Why did I get a puppy?" question. After all, I'm more often a cat person. My disposition and life-style have demanded a less social and more independent friend and that has not changed.

What has changed?

It could be my age. I'm a mother with two young adult sons. Maybe since they don't need my attention so much I could turn my skills and nature toward another (and loving) being, to nurture and play, train and care for.

It could be my lifestyle. I'm a librarian who now holds three part-time jobs, and I have the blessed employers who are foresighted enough to allow some work from my home office. So I'm here more often than not and like the company. She reminds me to get up from my computer every couple of hours or so (we're house-training, after all). She's quiet, not yappy or wild, though she can get puppy-crazed at times. She likes routine as much as I do and she doesn't mind when I plan out the day as a schedule. We kind of let each other lead although really, I'm the boss and she seems to know and like that (maybe that will change during her adolescent phase).

It could be the puppy herself. I think this is the bottom line. Sophie is amazing. Her size (small, not toy), breed (Maltipoo), disposition, intelligence, and eagerness to learn are making this whole adjustment time work. She's the closest thing to a perfect puppy that I've ever seen. For the first time, I feel that I will miss her puppy-hood. Usually I'm drudging through the potty training, teething, mouthing, high energy, and initial training (sit, down) with a forced-upon patience.

This time, I'm laughing and playing and catch myself wondering what I did to deserve such a good friend. It's just what I needed to get me through this bleak recession and the winter months ahead.

I checked out a few books and did some research, of course. It took me about a year to come to Sophie after a couple of trials and errors. Books about the breeds, puppy training, and Dog 101 are essential and I'm a fierce advocate for puppy prep prior to bringing the bundle home. You just don't know what to expect, though.

Many people equate the new family member as similar to having a new baby in the house. I believe this is true to a point. Puppies grow a lot faster than humans and her needs are, in a sense, more basic. This little fluff ball is delightful, but there is no way I would confuse my daily interaction with her as anything more or less than the human-dog relationship. Yes, I coddle her some. I have to admit that. She goes with me just about everywhere I can take her.

But Sophie is no wimpy lap dog, either. The Maltese is a traditional royal dog, and I can see that in her. Her mix of Maltese and Poodle initiates intelligence and loyalty. She guards me with a growing love - and it's mutual. Her full white and apricot non-shedding coat keeps her from getting chilled during rain and chilly fall morning walks while we romp around the leaf-strewn paths.

And here's a bonus: Thanks to my Prius's GPS, I can see the park-lands in green with little evergreen trees identifying them, scrolling by while the map follows my car's route. Before, I had no reason to pull off my main errand-running ruts. Now, I say to Sophie "Let's go!" and her little tail gets a-waggin'. With leash and clean-up bag in hand, we see which way the path leads us. If a runner or another dog-walker approach, Sophie is delighted but is learning to also be polite.

Yesterday's revelation - that I would miss these walks in the woods, by creeks and riverbeds - hit me hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. This little being had brought me to places I really needed to see and be in. The early morning sunlight, fresh air, and exercise are generally a good thing. But combine that with a devoted look of love and delight from my black-eyed pup, and I am stunned.

This is why I have a puppy, and not just any puppy, either. This is why Sophie and I are friends forever. She is precocious and fun and challenges me to re-examine my wants, needs, and self. She is a gift as precious as any new found friend, and I am truly lucky.

Darkening

Standard time resumed a week ago. It's one of those things that cause cyclical feelings, which never seem to be resolved. As a librarian, I look forward to the inevitable question(s), "Why do we have Daylight Savings Time?" and "What's it all about, anyway?" because I can't ever remember this one. I know it has something to do with farms, or maybe school-aged children and safety, or perhaps it is really a way to save electricity (Daylight "Savings" is my clue). None of this really makes any sense to me however I look at it. So, every year I find the answer through a very good source, pass it along to my patron, and promptly forget.

Where I live (Delaware), when winter approaches I end up going to work in the dark and by the time I return, it's, well, dark. So what is the relevance of changing from Daylight Savings to Standard Time? How does it apply to my life and to those around me?

It's mysterious, like a ritual performed for a long-ago and shadowy cause. There are so many other problems that are screaming for attention, like the current debate surrounding universal health care and the double digit unemployment figures, the unsolved wars and threats of new wars - domestic and abroad. When I recall this week's shootings in Orlando and Fort Hood, I shudder with worry, helpless as a bowl of Jello facing a tsunami. The whipped cream - the upcoming holiday season - doesn't stand a chance.

How does the U.S. measure our anger index? The strength of such an emotion is made evident in a variety of ways, from seething silence to loud destructive behaviors.

I recall President Obama's words while on the campaign trail:

One of the things I think the next president has to do is to stop fanning people's fears. If we spend all our time feeding the American people fear and conflict and division, then they become fearful and conflicted and divided. And if we feed them hope and we feed them reason and tolerance, then they will become tolerant and reasonable and hopeful. And that I think is one of the most important things that the next president can do, is try to bring us together, and stop trying to fan the flames of division that have become so standard in our politics in Washington.

— Barack Obama, You Tube

His message rang true and it fed the flames of hope in many of us. Fear is a short-term but effective way to control a nation. But where are we now? Why does my stomach still tense up when I face another month of bills and wonder if my and my family's health will hold on, our income will hold on, we need to hold on and get through this. It is a bleak time in America and I believe our complacency is wearing thin.

If only I could hibernate through the dark of our winter. Yes, a teasing and fleeting thought, but not this librarian's path.

It's October...and thoughts about Poe

The darkening chill entered our living spaces with a suddenness that surprised each of us. Most upset was our cat who took to burrowing under the blankets until the warming of a mid-day sun melted her disposition enough to emerge from a semi-hibernation. Thoughts about activating the heater with the initial smelly blast, or at least getting a fire going in the livingroom's fireplace creep into my thoughts. I find I am checking our candle supply, making lists of winter needs for hands and feet, and am urged outside to prepare the garden and pond for the icy cold north wind's soon arrival.

I also find I am looking at our collection of books and movies and am drawn to the spooky ones. "I am Legend," "The Sixth Sense," "The Masque of the Red Death." My mood embraces Poe.

Edgar Allan Poe's death is said to occur on October 7th, 1849. In honor of that, here are some resources to share and delight!

1. A lengthy list of Poe's works are available through The Project Gutenberg. Scroll down about two-thirds of the page to find "Poe". Some are available as audio versions:

http://www.gutenberg.org/browse/authors/p

2. Five works are listed through Literature.org. These include "The Cask of Amontillado",
"The Pit and the Pendulum", "The Assignation", "The Tell-Tale Heart", and "The Tale of
the Ragged Mountains":

http://www.literature.org/authors/poe-edgar-allan/

3. A well-known (and often humorous) tribute site to Poe is called "The House of Usher."
This site offers a biography, myths and legends, works, films, and more:

http://www.houseofusher.net/

4. The "Poe Decoder" is a site 'started by a small group of Poe enthusiasts,' who offer literary
criticisms and resources:

http://www.poedecoder.com/

5. Baltimore (Maryland) is rich with Poe history. Two resources offer interesting biographies and information:

• The Edgar Allen Poe Society of Baltimore, online at:

http://www.eapoe.org/

• Enoch Pratt Library (of Baltimore) provides an online resource regarding its special Poe Collection:

http://www.prattlibrary.org/digital/index.aspx?id=180

Curl up with those lap blankets, a cup of tea, and a loving pet and experience Poe's world, deep into the recesses of madness and despair! But only for a while...we want you back in the real world by the morning!

Banned Books Week Web Resource List

It's here! Banned Books Week for 2009, September 26 through October 3.

The American Library Association's website states:

Banned Books Week: Celebrating the Freedom to Read

Banned Books Week (BBW) is an annual event celebrating the freedom to read and the importance of the First Amendment. Held during the last week of September, Banned Books Week highlights the benefits of free and open access to information while drawing attention to the harms of censorship by spotlighting actual or attempted bannings of books across the United States.

Intellectual freedom—the freedom to access information and express ideas, even if the information and ideas might be considered unorthodox or unpopular—provides the foundation for Banned Books Week. BBW stresses the importance of ensuring the availability of unorthodox or unpopular viewpoints for all who wish to read and access them.

The books featured during Banned Books Week have been targets of attempted bannings. Fortunately, while some books were banned or restricted, in a majority of cases the books were not banned, all thanks to the efforts of librarians, teachers, booksellers, and members of the community to retain the books in the library collections. Imagine how many more books might be challenged—and possibly banned or restricted—if librarians, teachers, and booksellers across the country did not use Banned Books Week each year to teach the importance of our First Amendment rights and the power of literature, and to draw attention to the danger that exists when restraints are imposed on the availability of information in a free society.

Banned Books Week is sponsored by the American Booksellers Association; American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression; the American Library Association; American Society of Journalists and Authors; Association of American Publishers; and the National Association of College Stores. It is endorsed by the Center for the Book in the Library of Congress.

For more information on getting involved with Banned Books Week: Celebrating the Freedom to Read, please see Calendar of Events and Ideas and Resources. You can also contact the ALA Office for Intellectual Freedom at 1-800-545-2433, ext. 4220, or bbw@ala.org.

Resources and a delightfully entertaining puppet show are also linked on ALA's site, on: http://www.ala.org/ala/issuesadvocacy/banned/bannedbooksweek/index.cfm

Resource Shelf, a blog for information professionals, educators and journalists, offers more information about this important week. See the "Banned Books Week for September 26, 2009" posting.

Celebrate the week with awareness and advocacy!

The transformation of passion into compassion

A deep and consistent thread of personal growth that I am sharing here concerns our culture's "awakening of the heart to compassion," as recounted by Joseph Campbell (The Power of Myth, 1988). The context of this quote and the title of this posting is important - interviewer Bill Moyers asked Campbell for elaboration on the "sign of the cross" as a symbol for our culture. Besides its association with "the one historic moment on Calvary," the underlying meaning holds a connection between the physical and spiritual. Campbell begins his response with:

The big moment in the medieval myth is the awakening of the heart to compassion,
the transformation of passion into compassion...

In light of a recent annual library conference in which I was a co-presenter, I gave a lot of thought to the question of motivation. What gives us the desire to do the absolute best we can do? In library work, what moves us to provide that extra element for each patron? What is the passion that drives us to be librarians?

My personal passion is a great generator. Passion raises the level of my personal commitment to the quality. It challenges me to do more, be better, provide excellent service. It motivates me to learn and to seek information and the tools in finding that information so that I can bring this to my patrons in timely and effective ways.

Passion is a strong emotion, however, and can become enmeshed with my beliefs about myself - my ego. If I believe in something and become passionate about it, the playing field of my vunerability is exposed. I may have a passion about a politician, about intellectual freedom, my children and husband, my home - which in reality I do.

So I began to think about Campbell's words and meaning, moving from passion to compassion, in the context of my own work and life. I can have a passion for library work, but without compassion I have a hollow, egotistical career.

I must have compassion for those librarians, historians, educators, curators before me. I must have compassion for those who have tried to represent the best interests of freedom of information and the value of education. Most of all, I must have compassion for those who seek answers no matter how trivial it may seem. A young patron asked how to get unstuck in a Nintendo DS game. A student seeking research about the psychology of the interpretation of dreams. Another patron wanted to know how child custody laws work when each parent lives in a different state and told me her son hadn't seen his father in five years.

Moving the passion for library work into a compassionate realm moves our hearts from fear of attack (and being on the defensive) to quietly listening in a place of calm care. It's easier to calculate how best to help our patrons when we are confident enough in ourselves to focus upon their needs.

Have a wonderful Memorial weekend! I hope your days are restful and pleasant.

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