If it isn’t fourteen inches long, it isn’t legal
In Which Your Humble Blogger proposes a fifty-percent reduction in those little circles that fall out of the hole-punch when the rubber bottom comes off.
In Which Your Humble Blogger proposes a fifty-percent reduction in those little circles that fall out of the hole-punch when the rubber bottom comes off.
In Which this Tohu Bohu is taken over by the eleven-year-old inside Your Humble Blogger, and not very deep inside, either.
In Which Your Humble Blogger talks about his own life, not the fictional lives in the book.
In Which Your Humble Blogger wanders the quiet aisles, which aren’t actually all that quiet, what with one thing and another. Shoosh! I shush you! Ah, never mind, keep chatting, at least you’re awake.
In Which Your Humble Blogger refrains from noting that they put the books on Scripture under the classification BS.
In Which for all Your Humble Blogger knows, she may still be working at it.
In Which it is revealed that Genre is a matter of where you find the book, which presumably answers the earlier question about plays, which aren’t shelved at all.
In Which Your Humble Blogger refrains from complaining about the heating/cooling system, which we’re kinda figuring will be fixed at some point, right?
Your Humble Blogger is attempting to re-enter the workforce. Well, and there it is. It’s a revenue thing. Anyway, having applied for a position at a nearby public library, I was invited to attend a test for applicants for that…
Your Humble Blogger has had a couple of interesting conversations recently about wordless picture books. The local library is considering putting up a display, or perhaps a permanent section, and so the topic came up, and I thought I would…