Kids these days. As it turns out, they're super into typewriters, as we discovered when Paul began bringing in different machines from his personal collection. Students have taken to the computers-of-old like fish to water, figuring out the mechanics, tapping at the keys, and enjoying the oh-so-satisfying "Ding!" of the carriage return alert as they transfer their thoughts to paper. Sometimes, though, they need a little help to create typewritten messages of a more...shall we say constructive nature . Enter Paul, poem-prompter extraordinaire, and his call for verses composed of four syllables per line. Able to practice what he preaches, Paul left this gem on the machine.
After decades apart, this YA gem from Paula Danziger returned to us today, arriving sans explanation in our shipping bin:
Observe the author info, which credits Danziger with writing The Cat Ate My Gymsuit. I'm no forensics specialist, but the use of "gymsuit" alone tells me this must be an oldie. That doesn't mean, however, that it's not a goodie. Now that we have it back in our library -- only 26 years overdue -- I plan to take it home, open up a bag of pistachios, and enjoy some teen angst, 1978-style. After all, as the blurb reads, "Pistachio nuts will cure any problem." Unless, of course, you have a nut allergy. But why split hairs after all these years?
Get into the library! After a teacher pointed out that it's likely the soaring temps and not, in fact, a love of reading driving kids into the library, the 60+ students now gathered here during Uni period makes a bit more sense. Still, what a nice tribute to our facilities (read: our air conditiong). Again for the record, photgraphic evidence of the direct correlation between temperatures and patrons.
Students gathered, books opened, graphing calculators activated: it's beginning to look a lot like fifth period. Often our busiest time of day, excluding lunch and Uni Period, today's fifth hour turnout of 47 students may just break -- nay, shatter -- records!
In case you doubt my outrageous claims, I present to you photographic evidence of today's astounding patronnage.
The View from the Circulation Desk: A Study in Numbers
Upon Closer Inspection: Comfy Chairs
Discovering Facts in the Fiction Room
Actual Study in the Quiet Room-- and Nary a Contraband Lunch in Sight!
Move over, Milan! The library was a veritable runway as Uni students celebrated the return of Dr. Who with duds honoring their favorite Time Lord. Even library staff got in on the action, with Graduate Assistant Amanda McFarlane sporting her T.A.R.D.I.S. tee. Watch for these styles in the September issue of Vogue-- they're Dr. approved!
Vikram knows a Sonic Screwdiver makes the perfect accessory.
Abraham proves bowties are cool.
Will Frozen's Anna be the Dr.'s next assistant? Amanda's whimsical fusion tee invites conversation, contemplation.
Lucia's outfit is a Perfect Ten in this Tennant-inspired top.
Ellie effortlessly combines the best of Britain in this homage to both the Beatles and the Drs. Who.
At graduation, the Senior Chorus did a "Uni-fied" version of the song So Long, Farewell from The Sound of Music. It was, of course, terribly clever, and definitely got the tear ducts going. This year was especially rich in wonderful end-of-year events, but I think we're really, truly, finally done. Here's some evidence.
For me, this end-of-school period is my very last one. I've been the librarian at Uni High since the fall of 1987 and, let me tell you, it's a really, really hard gig to walk away from. The students, the staff, and the parents are amazing and I will miss them SO much. Fortunately, I'll have until June 29 before I'm technically off the job, which will give me time to clean up a few things and leave good records for the next lucky holder of this post. The middle locker in the photo below? That's me. Not quite ready to go.
Oh, and did I say how much I love Uni High students? Please stay in touch, you guys - I won't be hard to find.
We get to see all the amazing and unique items our students request for their research projects. This week's hands-down favorite goes to the books that have been procured for a project in Ms. Majerus' 19th Century British Literature class (note that this is a correction from the previously incorrect attribution to Mr. Leff's class). Take a look at these three selections (hint: "receipt" is the old-fashioned term for "recipe").
Frontispiece of The Modern Housewife or Menagere, comprising nearly one thousand receipts for the economic and judicious preparation of every meal of the day and those from the nursery and sick room; with minute directions for family management in all its branches, illustrated with engravings, by Alexis Soyer .
[Left] Reprint of a cookery book from 1861. Its title is not nearly as grand. [Right] Gold leaf embossed cover of The English Bread-Book for domestic use, adapted to families of every grade containing the plainest and most minute instructions to the learner; practical receipts for many varieties of bread; with notices of the present system of adulteration, and its consequences; and of the improved baking processes and institutions established abroad by Eliza Acton . The scroll entwining the sheaves of wheat reads “Bread to strengthen men’s heart.”
Page 1 of Modern Cookery, for private families, reduced to a system of easy practice, in a series of carefully tested receipts, in which the principles of Baron Liebig and other eminent writers have been as much as possible applied and explained (Newly Revised and Much Enlarged Edition, copiously illustrated), by Eliza Acton .
Thanks, Paul, for bringing these to my attention and finding the good parts!