I have an interview

at Blackburn Correctional Complex tomorrow morning for a librarian position, so today I decided to check out and read Jill Grunewald's book 'Reading Behind Bars: A True Story of Literature, Law, and Life as a Prison Librarian'. That is #29 out of the goal of 24 books this year. Yay! And it was written by a fellow graduate of the University of Kentucky School of Library Science.

We had someone open fire at a community celebration Saturday evening

here in Lexington, at Charles Young Park off Midland Avenue, while people were gathered for East End Days.

16 year old identified as victim who died in Lexington mass shooting

16-year-old killed, four other injured, including two children, in mass shooting at Lexington community event

This is so terribly sad. A 14-year-old, 4-year-old, and two adults were also shot and were sent to the hospital but were said to have non-life-threatening injuries.

He died trying to save others. That's pretty noble, especially in a 16-year-old. May his family find peace, and may his memory be a blessing. I hope they find the person who did this soon. Di’Zhon Robertson was a brave young man who made the ultimate sacrifice, and he deserves justice. My sincere condolences to his family and loved ones.

UPDATE: We went 192 days without a murder. So sad that it has been broken. But at least they have a suspect in custody.

Suspect arrested in deadly Lexington mass shooting

Lexington Police have arrested 18-year-old Jametrius M. Griffin, in relation to the homicide and shootings which occurred in Charles Young Park on Saturday. Griffin is currently being held at the Fayette County Detention Center.

He has been charged with Murder, Assault and Tampering with Physical Evidence

Had to rearrange my room a bit

My desk used to be at the foot of my bed (I have a full-sized day bed, so the foot is the short end, on the right, with the headboard on the long end against the wall) in front of a window with plants, but that's where my air conditioner is. Since it's one of those rolling types with a hose, you have to be careful not to bunch the hose up too much, and it was so close to my desk that condensation was starting to form on the desk. Since it's basically laminated pressboard and metal (it folds down), I didn't want it to get damaged, so I moved it against the actual side of the bed I have my head against, the short side opposite of where it is, but along the bed rather than perpendicular to it, so next to the window and plants on the other side of the room. There's not as much room for the desk over there, and while there are also books behind it, there is a large treadmill (folded up) and a coat rack with items hanging on it), so that's not ideal in terms of telehealths and job interviews, but hey, it is what it is.

Here are some pictures.

Before

After

More room for the air conditioner

Close-ups:

From the back

From the front

A very weird but entertaining book

I started it back in May and picked it up here and there, but really got going tonight and finished it at 2:45 AM.

Finished book #28 out of a goal of 24 for the year. It's the first fiction one I've read this year. One other was a book of poetry. Everything else has been non-fiction. My friend lent this one to me after bringing it back from his trip to New York. Something reminded him of me. I suspect it's because the main character tends to please everyone but himself, never pursues his own dreams, and instead sticks close to his wacky family while trying to maintain a sense of normalcy. Years ago, my friend's crazy mother gave me a jar of Pace mild picante sauce as a commentary on my personality. Yes. Did I mention she was crazy? Somewhat subtle, I'll admit. So we've always described my personality as mild picante sauce. But I don't want to be like that. I want to be a little more adventurous without being too out there. In the book, the main character realises it's time to live a little. I'm 59; I think it's past time. I really need to make the time. Which, I believe, is the reason my friend lent me the book. 😊 I know him well; if he can do two or three things with one action, he will.

Trying to learn...this is just the fourth project I've done

I did watercolour club at Northside Library today, and I think I did rather well up to a point. It was a white horse. I did pretty well up to the horse's muzzle and eye, and while I knew what I needed to do, I just didn't have a steady hand to do the eye right or get the definition of the muzzle right, to be honest. I have essential tremor in my hands, so it might have been a factor. I'd like to try again when I'm not time-constrained and see if I can do better, though. Here is my art compared to the reference work and photo.

 

Compared to the teacher's artwork

Compared to the reference photo

I was reading about

The Great Irish Potato Famine on Facebook and how boats full of grain, butter, and livestock continued to be exported to Britain despite it all, sometimes under military guard, and in at least one case, a plea by a British relief official to divert 60,000 tonnes of grain to feed the starving was specifically denied.

There is a book I bought used from Better World Books called The Graves are Walking: The Great Famine and the Saga of the Irish People by John Kelly. Given that quite a bit of my ancestry is Irish, I'm interested in the history.

Anyway, I was reading on Facebook, and it reminded me of a song, a modern folksong that I dearly love but which brings me to tears every single time I hear it. It was written by American songwriter Peter Jones based on letters found in his family's attic, written by his great-great-great-grandfather and sent to his son. It is called 'Kilkelly, Ireland', about the family left behind after that son's emigration from County Mayo to America.

Here's a video that did a nice job with the song and images. I believe this is the version sung by Robbie O'Connell, Mick Moloney, and Jimmy Keane.

I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees.

 If Dr Seuss wrote about data centres as the Lorax:

Here's the exchange, including the poem, for the visually impaired, since I don't think I can fit it in the alt text...from X.

User thisone0verhere: I wanna hear what the Lorax has to say about datacenters please

User alishakwon84:

           I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees.

And frankly, you've got them all down on their knees.

You flattened the forests, you paved every glen,

To build giant boxes for silicon men.

They whir and they blink with a mechanical hum,

While rivers grow thirsty and creeks come undone.

So build with more wisdom, mor sunshine, less smoke.

The planet's not here for one infinite joke.

I am the Lorax. My message won't bend-

You can't upload Earth if it comes to an end. 

 User thisone0verhere: Not gonna lie that made me tear up a little

I love the Lorax. It is one of my three favourite Dr Seuss books:

1. Horton Hears a Who
2. The Lorax
3. The Butter Battle Book 

Here is that bumper sticker that sits square in the middle of my car bumper:

I am sorry to say that I had not heard the story

Juliette Hampton Morgan

of Juliette Hampton Morgan, a white librarian from Montgomery, Alabama, who faced down her city's prejudice and bigotry with editorials typed and sent to the newspaper despite everything from being spat at on the sidewalk to calls for her dismissal to having a cross burned on her front lawn, until I read a post on the Facebook Page Buzzing America. Her story is courageous, sad, and inspiring, all at once. It shows that it's important to find your voice despite attempts to quash it, because what matters is what is right, not what others spout. She was a true librarian heroine. I am so sorry she did not live to see what I hope we can call a flawed but somewhat better world, although we have our ups and downs.  We need more like her today, and librarians like her are at the forefront of a cultural war that threatens to overwhelm patrons' ability to read and think for themselves. The main library of the city where the mayor demanded her dismissal for supporting the rights of Blacks riding the buses of Montgomery is now named for her, and that is part of her legacy, but the story is well worth reading, remembering, and retelling.

She is also an example of how courage often comes in strange packages.  A nervous woman, she had major driving anxiety (boy do I understand that--it's taken years of therapy to mostly be able to drive without too much trouble around town, and I still avoid major roads like New Circle and Nicholasville Road when possible, and I've driven on the Interstate four times since 1993, twice in the dead of night with little traffic). She relied on medicine and the bus system. It was because she rode the bus that she witnessed how Black riders were treated by White drivers, such as pulling off after they'd paid for their fare at the front but before they could board in the back. Despite that nervous disposition, and the fact that it obviously did contribute to the toll the hate speech and crimes against her took, along with her decision to take her life in the end, the fact that time after time she returned to her typewriter for so long, despite it all was very brave, and showed a force of will that many would have found surprising in an otherwise meek-seeming librarian, at least in the 1950s, when we were all supposed to be unmarried, wear sensible shoes, and go 'Shhh.'.

I think next time I dress for Halloween, instead of dressing as something spooky or Disney or such, I'd be tempted to dress in a pinstripe dress with a hydrangea pinned at the neck, with hydrangea earrings and if I can manage it, pin curls, because I instantly felt a kinship with this fine lady, and it would be an opportunity to tell her story. I would hope it wouldn't be an affront to her family; I would mean it as an homage. I'm glad the city decided to honour her by naming the library after her. Times do, fortunately, change.

A joyous Lughnasadh to you!

Enjoy this beautiful video. I don't know much about the band Deloraine except they are Czech and are billed as a sort of neo-Pagan/fantasy/Witcher-influenced group. But this was pretty impressive:

You can torment me, but my last straw is apparently pizza

Woke up with a horrible work-related anxiety dream today where I'd spent an hour trying to sign in and schedule two teenagers who seemed to have endless PROMIS questionnaires to do and that just meant more scheduling for me to do (this is now how it was in real life, of course), and I couldn't progress to the next people till they were taken care of, nor could they go on to their appointment, and it had been an hour. To make it worse, someone showed up with a huge amount of pizza and was giving all the families and staff free pizza and drinks, but I couldn't have any till I took care of this. At this point, my brain had just had it, and I woke up. Apparently, my limit for nightmare torture is being left out of free pizza.

Later, my friend and I were discussing it. He thought it was just my subconscious kicking it up to the surface because I was still looking for a job, even though it's been almost six months. Also, we decided that in addition to our previous determination that my punishments in hell would be constantly looking for fluff after sweeping that keeps appearing and endlessly trying to get a cantilever door back on track, it would be while others were enjoying free pizza at my expense. This is apparently torment in my mind.

But seriously, brain, I could use a little less of that. I will say I've had nothing like that in at least 3-4 months, which made this even more curious.

At least it was just a dream/nightmare, though.