had a charmingly woeful day today -- kept forgetting everything. Forgot a student's conference at 8.15, so that he was sitting sadly waiting for me when I arrived at 8.30; forgot that I had promised to cover The Other Liberal Professor's midterm exam, so that I had to run (yes, I actually ran, exams clutched in one hand) across campus, five minutes late at that point, to get to the room -- AND I had the wrong room number, so it was lucky Mouse was in the class and met me on the way, though she did get to mock me unceasingly all morning, both for forgetting and because seeing me sprinting across campus amused her so highly.
Then I forgot I had an appointment to advise a student -- which was no deal, just boring for her, since she had to hang about and watch me run her transcript, instead of me having it done when she arrived -- but the REASON I forgot all this stuff was I had wholly and entirely forgotten today was Wednesday, apparently --
The day I volunteered to take the book fair at the kid's Montessori school.
Eck.
And I had already sent mr. delagar home with the car.
(mr. delagar now teaches two classes, adjunct, at my university -- yay! -- so we carpool, which is fine, except for times like this, b/c mr. delagar is not known for answering his cell phone. Ever.)
He did this time, though, and came back to fetch me, and I made it to the book fair on time.
Can I say I love volunteering at book fairs? If there is any experience prettier than helping three and four and six and seven year olds pick out books, I can't think what it would be. They have their tiny envelopes with five dollar bills or a seven dollar check or (one girl -- yikes!) a twenty dollar bill inside, and I pace with them gravely up and down the book display and we discuss the merits of this text and that, it is just priceless. It makes me want to give up being a professor and go be a librarian.
Especially the three year olds. "I wike dwagons," one confided in me. "Do they have books about dwagons?"
"I believe we do," I said. "Step this way."
At the end of the day, the kid and I picked out books, and I'm afraid I indulged her a bit much. Oh, well. If we're not to spend our money on books, what would we spend it on? Rent?
I have just read an excellent book, btw -- Benighted, by Kit Whitfield. Though it is about werewolves, and I, like most of you no doubt, don't like books about werewolves, never mind that: this is one you'll like. Me, too. It's not a werewolf book, even if it is. Trust me here.
Also Lee Smith's new book is out, Agate Hill. I've started it. A bit slow at the start, but I love that Lee Smith, so.
1 hour ago
2 comments:
I had to take the post down and re-post it, because something in it was messing up the page, so here is Zelda's post, copied and pasted:
1 Comments:
zelda1 said...
When my children were in school, they sent home a book list and the children and I picked through the books and decided which ones they wanted to read, which puzzle books they wanted to work and if there were any art books or paint books we picked one or two of those and I made out the check and sent them to school and they paid for their books, and in a week or so, they came home with sacks filled with their new books. I still have two of such books. One was the Good Son's and the other was the Evil Daughter's. I treat them like they are gold, but they are just little books with smudge marks and tiny finger prints and memories of a young mother sitting on the sofa with her two children, reading from their new books. I am just way too sentimental.
I got newpaper type list and got to pick nad my momma was like delagar, way too indulgent and I had books overflowing and I remember we got them every month or so and they were so cool, so cool. Damn I wish I still got them with their little science kits and arts and crafts...yah, good memory.
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