Last day of my Christmas and New Year break and I don’t feel I have achieved much.  In December I made a list, wrote it on coloured paper in turquoise ink. I thought it might spur me on, didn’t work.  Have decided not to brood on the unachieved but to start afresh tomorrow.  New list on white paper in defiant black ink.

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Not many in the library today.  I must say I’d thought there might be a bit more of a rush.  Beth and I took down the Christmas decorations and packed them away for another year.  The library has had the same set of decorations for years, but I still get a thrill when they are unpacked.  The place looks bare and neglected without its brightly coloured baubles and tinsel.  Someone has pulled the legs off the large Santa that sits near the library entrance, he was lying on the floor with his wadding spilling out.  We found his legs behind the photocopier.  That is no way to treat Santa.

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For ‘Winnie-the-Pooh Day’ I suggested the children could bring in their teddy bears for ‘story time’. Beth said she would bring in her old teddy as long as he sat behind the counter, she didn’t want him losing his legs.  On my way home I spotted, lying in the gutter, a grubby and soggy brown (I think) teddy bear.  I’ll put him through the wash cycle and see what comes out.

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Found my Gran’s copy of ‘Winnie-the-Pooh’ published in 1926, inscribed ‘Jean with love from Mummy’.  I think my Gran must have been a naughty little girl as she has coloured in some of the illustrations in crayon.  I remember her teasing me as a little girl with the rhyme ‘Rice Pudding’ from another of A. A. Milne’s books ‘When We Were Very Young’.

What is the matter with Mary Jane?

She’s crying with all her might and main,

And she won’t eat her dinner – rice pudding again –

What is the matter with Mary Jane?

 I’m still not a fan of rice pudding nor semolina, and as for tapioca, that just looks like anaemic frogspawn.

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We had the usual crowd for ‘story time’ today.  Rescued ted has come up well and took pride of place in the centre of the circle.  One of our regulars came in her pink party frock with her teddy in a matching knitted dress.  All was going well until a little boy who hasn’t been before threw up over the pink dressed teddy missing the matching party frock by inches.

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Two nights ago arrived home to find Charles Dickens buried under all the cushions on the sofa with only the tip of his tail poking out and the cottage freezing.  NO HEATING.  Stood in front of the boiler giving it the hardest stare I have in my repertoire.  Nothing.  Tried turning it off and on several times like I do with my computer at work.  Absolutely no signs of life. With rapidly numbing fingers I texted John, like a pathetic female.  By return he said he would come over in the morning.  Put some food down for Charles Dickens, chose one of his favourites in vain attempt to placate.  Rewarded with a disdainful look and a return to refuge under the cushions.  Took myself off to the Bull & Buttercup for the evening taking up residence by the fire and tucked into shepherd’s pie and cherry cobbler with cream.

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John came this morning, he began by sucking in his breath through his teeth three times.  He does this every time he comes and looks at my boiler.  He tapped various pipes, after a good rummage in the back of his van, came back brandishing what looked like a tin can with wires hanging out the side and said ‘this will do the trick’. Another half an hour of tapping and muttering, the boiler gurgled, shuddered and started up.  John’s parting comment was ‘that old boiler won’t last much longer you know’.  Man of little faith.

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A couple came in to take selfies of themselves for ‘Library Selfie Day’.  Recycling is good and I try not to waste things but this pair had taken it to extremes.  She explained they had not bought any new clothes for nine years.  She patched and darned everything, including their underwear.  That is taking it a bit too far.  Darned lumpy knickers sound uncomfortable.  I did admire her resourcefulness and her skill with a needle and thread, the results were an amazing mishmash of colour, pattern, and texture.  A grey-haired man, the epitome of a caricature ‘mad professor from the university’ came in brandishing a shiny new smartphone and for 20 mins proceeded to press it, swipe it and shake it.  He explained it was a birthday present from his son, but he couldn’t make the ‘DAMN Thing Work’.  He’d heard about the ‘Library Selfie Day’ and thought it would be a good place to start and it would show his son he wasn’t too old to master new tech.  Beth took pity on him and took the photo.  His passing words as he left were ‘this getting old lark is no fun’.