See, I made a hat. Where there never was a hat.

Apologies to Steven Sondheim, but I've had that particular lyric going through my head for six months. (It's from "Finishing the
Hat", from Sunday in the Park with George.)

In October, my wondrous children's librarian Kelly announced she was expecting a bundle of joy in April. We were all overjoyed. We are kind of baby crazy. We have a
weekly infant story hour that is about as much fun as you can imagine.
It's supposed to be about emergent literacy skills and providing support to parents. We hand out stack of copies of board books and read them for about 15 minutes, then we have fifteen minutes of play, with three bins of age appropriate, fun and interesting toys. I LOVE the clear tubes with feathers and a few marbles inside. Almost silent, slow rattles.

In November, I decided I had to make something homemade for this baby-to-be. I had five months. I decided on crochet. I had access to books and DVDs on crochet, plus a co-worker who mostly knit but did some crochet. So on Thanksgiving weekend, I bought some purple (my favorite color, plus it works for boys or girls) yarn, and tried to learn how to crochet.

Let's say my first attempts were frustrating. And ugly. But I finally got a couple of stitches reasonably down. I realized that a blanket was beyond my skill, scope, or
timeline. So I decided on a hat. It seemed like an easy little project. First off, I couldn't figured out how to start it. I kept looking at different patterns that said "crochet 20 stitches and turn the row." I did not get it. I wanted the hat to be round. One night, I was just messing around, and the stitches just spiraled. I kept going in a circle, and it started looking like a tiny yarmulke. I was thrilled.

At some point, I realized I would need to increase (add stitches) to make the hat wider. I tried to increase every third stitch, but I kept losing count. Me and numbers. Then I had to decrease so it didn't look and function like pancake. Same problem in reverse. But I kept going. The hat developed these puckers and bumps, almost looking like a bunch of grapes. So that became the stated design. My friend Katherine told my she knew how to knit leaves, so we decided to collaborate. At this point, I had been working on the hat for over two months, figuring things out. It was
approaching completion, if slowly. Plus, I had found crochet a soothing hobby.

Then I had an emergency admission to the hospital. After things calmed down, I asked the Boyfriend to bring me my crochet. A label was placed on the dog-proof plastic jar I kept it in. Then it disappeared. I was bereft. Heartbroken. Finally, I decided to start again. Of course, I didn't know how I had started and I had to relearn stitches
, but it was easier. I also was low on yarn. So I unraveled all my practice pieces and made them into balls. Now no one will ever seethose trying trials. wOOt.

The baby is born (a girl, Haley) and the hat is completed. Her mom and dad have decided to move back to Kansas, so I won't see much of her, but the hat will be useful. Of course, I am sad to lose an excellent children's librarian. However, it came as no big surprise. Their family is there, and her husband has portable skills. The only women I have known who have returned to work immediately after the birth of a child are those who must due to financial circumstances. So I will be training another new librarian, if past trends continue. Children's librarians are usually young, right out of school, and gung ho. There's just interview panels (joy) and summer reading to get through.

I'm fairly pleased that I learned something new, mainly from books, at my "advanced" age. I'm also pleased that it is an expression of creativity. Next I need to work out how to use all the other pretty yarn I just could not resist buying. Watch out family and friends--Ihave plenty of time before Christmas, and I'm determined to turn a row!

Does this have anything to do with biblio or blather? I think so. Please, let's keep those difficult 700s shelved in good order, and buy more, including DVDs. Trust me, they circ like crazy.

There is something about creating something that wasn't there before that kick starts the brain. It's worth fostering.

P.S.
It's so sweet to have positive comments from my staff on my blog. You
want me, you really want me. I think I will go against library policy
before we open on Monday, and demand a big group hug!

Al-Mamlakah al-'Arabiya al-Sa'udiyah

While searching for a customer for a different title by Laurie Halse Anderson, this record passed by my screen. I went back to look later and saw MPOW owned five copies, none at my agency. So I requested one and received it at my branch in a few days. I was blown away by it. I love Anderson (if that isn't some kind of given. oh, be that way if you must). It's not just Fever 1793. There's Speak, and Twisted, both of which I will recommend to almost any teen girl.

This book is the kind of school report book stuffed with factoids beloved by middle-schoolers with mass assignments. For me, the pictures did it, as much as the informative text, which told me things I didn't know. Of course, human rights get a white wash, as does absolute monarchy. Still, I think I may buy a copy or two while they are available.

Spell bound

Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen certainly has its charms (sorry :*) The Waverlys have always been an unusual family, with peculiar gifts and a peculiar garden. Though they have lived in Bascomb, North Carolina for generations, they are outsiders.

Claire Waverly has stayed at home, quietly running a successful catering business. Her recipes incorporate flowers, and have some strange properties. Their mother abandoned Claire and her sister Sydney to the care of their grandmother. Sydney ran off when she turned eighteen, and Grandmother has died, so Claire is alone in the old family home.

A new neighbor has moved in, and ignores Claire's protective borders. He is an attractive if abstracted artist, and quickly becomes fascinated with Claire. Then Sidney returns home with her young daughter, Bay. Sidney has run away from her abusive husband, but she won't tell Claire where she's been, or anything else. Both sisters need to confront the past and the future, and the Waverly magic. The romantic subplots are a bit forced. Cousin Evanelle Waverly and her gift for giving the exactly correct gift at the time it will be needed makes up for it. It's a sweet, quaint, comfortable if not quite magical read. This was another Advance Reading Copy--thank you Random House.

The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick held me spellbound completely. One of my customers recommended it to me, and I trusted her without even asking questions. It is wonderful.

I was rather surprised the book weighed in at 534 pages, or roughly 2.5 lbs. On the long side for juvenile fiction, if not quite Harry Potter (is the new book classified teen again?). On page 511, Hugo says he will create an automaton that can "produce one hundred and fifty-eight different pictures, and can write...an entire book, twenty-six thousand one hundred fifty-nine words. These words." I'm not sure if that is a precise inventory of The Invention of Hugo Cabret. It is mainly images--black and white--Hugo, clocks, clockworks, the station, the people he meets. It is cinematic in feel, which is quite fitting, though I don't want to give anything away... There are actual archival images interspersed with the fine, crosshatched, atmospheric closeups and pans.

The orphaned Hugo has been living with his uncle, who is the clock-keeper of a large Paris train station in the 1920s. However, the uncle has disappeared. Hugo has continued to tend the clocks, stealing food from the businesses in the station, since he doesn't know how to cash his uncle's paychecks, which continue to arrive. Hugo is fascinated by some mysterious drawings his father made in a notebook. The drawings show an elaborate machine, an automaton, like an early robot. Hugo believes if he can repair the broken automaton, it will communicate with his father. Hugo is caught stealing from a toyshop in the station. He makes friends with Isabelle, the goddaughter of the man who owns the toyshop, and they set out to solve the mystery of the notebook and the automaton. Its a wonderful escape to a Paris of magic and wonder.