In Which, Armed With Documentation, We Obtain Our Library Cards

It was a very good day at The Casita (which is how I've begun to refer to our little house).

Today the Mamacita found a copy of the lease. With this lease, a utility bill with the Mamacita's name on it, and the Mamacita's picture ID, the four readers* of the family were able to obtain real, live library cards at our new hometown public library.

Do I hear a "Hallelujah!"?

The days leading up to this event have been sheer agony, particularly for a certain reader of the bunch. This particular reader has read every age-appropriate book in the house at least twice, (and probably some that aren't age appropriate but I don't want to think about that right now). This particular reader was, and I quote, MISERABLE! without any new books to read. The Mamacita tried to buy him off with a book purchased at our friendly neighborhood independent bookstore, but that only lasted one day. Then he was MISERABLE! again (I confess, the complaint of being MISERABLE! without a book is one of the few complaints I can abide, as I'm sometimes guilty of complaining about the same thing).

There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. There were pleas and negotiations. There were mumbled concessions: fineI'lljustreadHarryPotterfortheFIFTHtimethengeez.

Reader, what can I tell you? I was trying. But did you ever try to find a copy of a lease in a casita into which you've just moved, where, in fact, many boxes are still unpacked and there are piles of stuff lots of places where stuff doesn't belong? I confess, it was almost as hard as finding Kit Kittredge, American Girl, who was at the bottom of the.very.last of boxes labeled "toys" that I looked in.

And also, since when do hometown public libraries require multiple forms of identification including one home-based utility, not a cell phone bill? Kinda makes you feel paranoid for wanting a library card. But I digress.

I found the lease, girded my loins, and took the kids downtown. The hometown public library is beautiful, full of friendly staff, and houses an impressive collection from what I've seen so far. Which, of course, is the Children's and Middle Readers collection. And, after the last several days, it seems quite fitting that one of the streets bordering the library is Mercy Street. Mercifully, the MISERABLE reader, and the other two readers (one came home with the library's entire Kit Kittredge collection), and the mamacita have spent much of today lost in the pages of a book. Bliss.

And speaking of how important and completely wonderful hometown public libraries are, take a look at this beautiful sketchbook a San Francisco artist made about her hometown public library. I think you'll find that her art and her sentiments are right on.

Which reminds me... there is one hometown public library that I've been missing lately. It involves an island house, a glassed in porch, and a view of the bay. But that's another story for another day...

Now, I'm off to read.


*As the three youngest readers made clear to library staff, Husband is not so much a reader. Don't ask me how I ended up marrying a non-reader. He's wonderful in many ways and we were in love. Still are.