Gardener's World

Complaint from a customer at Milkbeck:

"Those wild flower seeds you gave my lad for the Big Wild Read? I sowed 'em and just got weeds."

Ain't it grand

The muse strikes again. For those of you who care about these things, this one has a rather louche orchestra backing with lots of brass and a bloke with a whoopee whistle.

Ain't It Grand To Work In Helminthdale!
(apologies and due deference to Sarony)

Lately there's nothing but trouble, grief and strife
There's not much attraction about this bloomin' life
Last night I dreamt I was bloomin' well dead
At work in the library I bloomin' well said:
Look at the decor, early late stone age.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!
Look at the web site, can't add a web page.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!

We don't train the staff to use systems old or new
There's no one to train them so nowt will have to do.
Look at the staffing, looks like a ghost town.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!

Half of the posts here, gone like a vapour.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!
All of the remnants, burnt out and bitter.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!

We're closing a library to give it a refit
But don't tell the customers, it's a see-kerit.
Look at the ceiling, look at it fall down.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!

Look at what passes for communication.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!
Old horses asses misinformation.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!

We're having a booksale you might not be aware
And that's why there's boxes in every bloomin' where.
Can't move for cartons some have been years there.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!

What are those spinners? They're going nowhere.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!
Don't chuck that shelving! Best keep it back spare.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!

We come from dust and we all go back they say
That layer on the ref stock could well be you some day.
Look at T.Aldous, thumping great halfwit.
Ain't it grand to work in Helminthdale!

Trying to be gracious

At the point at which I'm just about to escape this hell hole T.Aldous appears at the door to apologise for this morning's "misunderstanding." He explains that he didn't know that Julia had given me the possible dates for the closure and that this has had to be postponed for all sorts of reasons.

"I don't know why she didn't wait until we knew for sure of the dates."

"She wanted to make sure that nobody had loans due during the closed period. We've been there before and we want to avoid the complaints if we can."

This ping-pong continues for a while until even he realises I want to go home.

Early warning

"Just to let you know," says Jim, "Warner's going to be asking T.Aldous whether he's had your views on the call centre process diagrams."

Warner already knows my views as Jim has passed a bowdlerised version of my notes on to him. I noticed that "this is utter bollocks" became "this doesn't look quite right."

Sure enough, five minutes later T.Aldous comes in to tell me about this last-minute document that he'd like me to have a look at. I promise to get back to him by early afternoon.

Testing

'Phone call from Lupin, who's sorting out some problems at Catty.

"Why don't you let your customers save to USB sticks?"

"Because your section head told us we weren't allowed to save to memory devices for security reasons."

"Do you want me to see if I can set it up for you?"

"I'd love you to but shouldn't you check beforehand to watch your back?"

It turns out that Lupin is told not to do so.

You might ask why I didn't just say yes. Experience tells me that once we went public on it it would be immediately shut down and Lupin bollocked. We'd have achieved nothing and compromised a useful ally.

Joined-up services

Frog's just had an email from a guy in Yorkshire congratulating him on Helminthdale's "First For Family Literacy" programme and asking how deeply embedded the Library Service is in the project.

The second half of the question is easily answered: this is the first that Frog's heard of it. His correspondent supplies him with links to the appropriate places. It turns out that this project's being run by the Family Learning Section Frog's been working with to deliver BookStart, inter alia, and that the conference presentation on the project was delivered by Cavey Gaskem, Warner's line manager and our Big Boss. We scour the presentation for evidence of the word "library." The rest is predictable...

Compared to us the Stasi was over-communicative

A bollocking from T.Aldous for telling staff that the reason why items being issued at Catty today have a May 2008 due date is because it's going to be closed for building works.

"This is premature. You should check your facts first."

"This is far from premature. Both staff and public will be wondering why this stock has a May due date."

Why does every bloody thing in this library service have to be a secret?

Low comedy

Post-meeting banter between colleagues, one of whom returns to a well-worn topic.

"In the war 'itler told the Luftwaffe that on no account must they bomb our town hall."

"He liked the building that much?"

"He reckoned our council was worth twenty fifth columns."

What type of a blunt instrument are we looking for?

Email from the web team.

"The library news page is out of date. Please update it as soon as possible."

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!

Hello

'Phone call:

"Is Frog there please?"

"No, sorry, he's in events at Spadespit Library all day."

"All day?"

"Yes."

"I'll ring him back this afternoon."

Processed cheese

"Has anyone shown you this?" asks Jim. "We've been looking at it in Management Group this morning."

"This" turns out to be a series of process flowcharts for the call centre's staff using our systems for customer transactions. Most are wrong in detail and one is functionally illiterate. Needless to say, this is the first I've seen of it and I've no idea who informed the process mapping.

"It's another panic job: Warner's got to sign it off on Monday."

I raise my eyebrows.

"T.Aldous spent all morning telling us that he only got this yesterday morning and that's why he asked them to postpone the signing-off meeting that had been set up for today. Except it turns out that this is the revised document taking into account some of the comments from earlier meetings."

This is true. In proper justifying-the-consultancy-fee fashion the document's history is mapped out date-by-date in the first page. T.Aldous sat on this for a month before letting Management Group see it. I'm getting my first dekko this lunchtime. I am fizzing.

Trying to convince myself that I can still be professional occasionally I go through the document, mapping out the errors and issues requiring decision as I go along, sketching out a few possible solutions along the way knowing full well they won't be looked at let alone adopted. Lovely.

Happy to serve

Frog's at Senebene Library with a class visit.

"That was really lovely and the children really enjoyed it. Thanks a lot," says the teacher. "Though it might have been better if, when you told the children that they'll be welcome in the library in the future and that this will be the first visit of many, the staff on the counter didn't roll their eyes and groan loudly."

Brick wall

Yet another web page rejection. We need to get four pieces of information onto the library web page:

• Telling people about CIPFA plus (and encouraging them to say nice things about us);
• Warning them that Catty Library will soon be closed for building works;
• Promoting our Breathing Places events; and
• Encouraging the last stragglers to finish the Big Wild Read.

The fact that three of these directly affect national performance indicators and the fourth is something our Catty customers absolutely need to know is neither here nor there. You cannot have more than two new items at a time.

Hidden in plain sight

Only in Helminthdale could the Outlook settings on new PCs be such as to automatically archive old mail to a hard drive that staff don't have permission to access.

Further opacity

Eileen asks me for some advice on getting some information out of the library catalogue. "For Monday's business information seminar."

"What business information seminar?"

"The one Milton's organised. He's got a chap coming in to talk about business information and business information systems."

It's good to know the communications policy's working so well. Milton's on his hols so I can't quiz him about it, which is a shame because he's one of the people who complains the most about other sections of the service having a silo mentality. I can't be bothered to feel personally slighted, it's nothing to do with me any more.

We're unimpressed down here as we're only the people who'll be answering the 'phone to people asking about the seminar.

Manual drive

I am heartily sick of people having a go at me for the fact that the new laser printers don't come with manuals. Typically:

"Where's the manual? How can we know how to use the thing without a manual? What are you doing about it?!?"

In short, nothing.

I'd probably be less pissed-off about it if the manuals for all the other kit we've ever had in the library hadn't been sent to my office on arrival and that not a one of the systems manuals I've ever written for the buggers has ever been seen to be available to staff on desk or counter.

Children without innocence

Frog's put out, and rightly. Some of the librarians didn't turn up for a children's library services meeting this morning. It turns out that after discussions in Management Group and a discussion in the last Assistant Librarians' meeting it has been decided that from today only one Assistant Librarian at a time will be coming to the meetings.

Nobody could be arsed to tell Frog about it.

Wot the 'ell 's t'good of a yoyo t'me?

"What are the risks in our implementing a project for a new library management system?" I'm asked.

I reply that key milestones in the specification, planning and implementation process might not be playing to our strengths, requiring as they do:

1. Specification of required outcomes
2. Decision-making
3. Evaluation and review
4. Project planning
5. Process re-engineering
6. Communicating with staff
7. Communicating with customers
8. Staff training
9. Workload planning and prioritisation
10. Workflow planning

Aside from that, we'd be fine so long as we were working for another organisation at some other time doing something else.

A jewel on the nation's arse

Call centre time again. Basically, it's a last-minute panic to not have any of our staffing budget taken off us to pay for the call centre without any of our planning for the fact that the centre's going to happen come what may so we should put forward some positive proposals for things they can do without ay additional resources that we'll have to pay for. Big shock, Management Group's negotiating ploy is to sit and sulk in the corner.

I'm not allowed in on any of the discussions on the Library Service's response to the call centre proposals, I'm just the guy who had to scope the project on his own over a few evenings because Management Group didn't want to know early last year; tried to ensure that all the physical activities and face-to-face interactions with customers outweighed any virtual or telephone interactions that could be taken over by the call centre; and who will be held responsible for any system that need to be set up, used and reported from when the time comes. What happens is that every so often one or other of them will pop their head into the office, show me some bit of paper I've never seen before and, before I get the chance to read it, subject me to another of their precious viva voce examinations: "can our management system report on the call centre's registering borrowers?" "what needs to be done?" "I thought not." Fuck off.

I wouldn't mind if these stupid examinations didn't involve their wasting my time with fifteen minutes' worth of blather about the doings and emailings of people I've never heard of prior to meetings I've never heard of or from either. Every bloody time.

Grasping the nettle

I've whined on about the business of waking up at your desk and finding out that you're the senior officer of the service and have no idea what the hell to do in an emergency so I won't do it again. It's happened again today, the emergency being a staffing issue. Now, I'll admit that I've no idea what it is I do these days but I'm very sure that it doesn't cover staffing the library. Unfortunately, half of management group are on leave and the remaining pair out a meetings (which circumstance never happens). We do the numbers and Mog decides that Julia must be around somewhere and resolves to beard her in her lair.

"Found her," says Mog, "she was at Dutch Bend."

"Oh yes. Job sorted?"

"What do you think?"

"Just out of curiosity, what was the official answer?"

"She said: 'It'll have to wait until T.Aldous is back.'"

One of the crowd

A belated thanks to The Annoyed Librarian for including 'Tales' in her blogroll.

One of the really scary things about the blogosphere (sorry!) is just how many other people are writing accounts of the hell that is life in utterly disfunctional library organisations. While it is always 'a comfort in wretchedness to have companions in woe' (Marlowe's 'Faust') I can't help boggling that this sorry world can stand it.

Whatever, let's raise a Brasso & orange with Citalopram chasers to our worldwide band of sufferers!

So who should run the public library service?

The votes are in:

• The people who brought you the Millennium Dome? 0%
• The people who brought you the Olympics 2012 logo? 0%
• The people who get your name wrong on your pay slip? 0%
• The people who lose your annual leave forms? 0%
• The Chuckle Brothers? 33%
• The late Charlie Caroli? 66%

So the late Charlie Caroli is voted the person most fit to run the public library service. Which was also the conclusion of the Bookseller poll which provoked this.

An inverted pyramid of piffle

"The bloke from the MLA says that we should be using Google Analytics for our web-based performance indicator figures. He reckons it would be easy enough," says Jim.

"I hope you told the bloke from the MLA that some of us are spending all our time working for a living," I respond.

Sometimes you can't win for losing

A colleague writes...

"One of our managers successfully persuaded the council's media team to include a piece on the forthcoming CIPFA Plus survey on the council's web site. Really good, including an excellent quote from the Chair of the Library Committee.

"The gilt was scraped off the gingerbread by the headline:

'Young bookworms get their say on services'

"I tremble to think what the headline might have been had we been surveying our Asian readers!"

Service development priorities

I don't have a lot of truck with most of the Library 2.0 evangelisms but I must see some point in Web 2.0 tools or I wouldn't be doing this. Consequently, when an advert for introductory training for Web 2.0 appeared in the lists I suggested that it would be useful for some of our librarians to go on it to get some idea of what I've been trying to talk to them about for the past three years. For once I got a response to an email to Management Group:

"Salome won't be available. She will be supervising the laying of the new carpet."

His granny's pot clock

Real 'phone call. Maybelle Googly rings me...

"Helminthdale Library, Kevin Musgrove speaking."

"Hello Kevin. Are you in there?"

"You've had a pig of a morning, haven't you Maybelle?"

Incendiary

Daisy's just given up smoking again.

"What will you be setting fire to now you've not got your cancer sticks?" I josh.

The glint in her eye prompts me to warn her of the detection rates for arson. I tell lies but it would be just her luck to be in the 0.5% solved by the Dutch Bend plod.

Journeying anonymous through the rising tide of concrete

I've promised myself that I won't get the Dutch Bend bus home again until March. Now the nights are drawing in I'm not sure I can deal with the journey in the dark.

The Dutch Bend bus seems to be the magnet for all the stray idiots and loonies within a fifteen-mile radius. Fist fights (usually between middle-aged women) and a loss of control of bodily gases are not unknown, and it gets worse in the evening.

Tonight was worse than usual. Or else I'm less attuned to it. My heart sank when the bus pulled in: we had a driver's friend. (You know: the one who stands by the driver's cab and makes sure they overshoot or miss bus stops and get in the way of people getting on or off the bus). Worse yet: this one had a toddler in tow. The little boy spent his time running up and down the bus. As we passed through Noddy he suddenly piped up:

"Mummy! I want the toilet!"

Eventually the driver suggested that he pause awhile to let the child have a pee in the gutter.

"No way! It would be just like you to drive off!"

Passing Dutch Bend Library nature took its course. The child at least at the sense to stand up and pee against the wall of the driver's cab ("Eeeuuuuwww! Keep it away from me!" squealed the mother). I expect the poor little sod got a telling-off at home for showing his mother up.

You can't hide from real life on public transport.

Rewards

Staff room:

"What do you reckon about Pay & Grading?"

"I reckon somebody's panicked about how much it might cost to pay us for what we really do so they're under orders to keep the lid on it all."

"What, by downgrading our performance or by downgrading our reviews?"

"What makes you think there's an 'or' there?"

Positive reinforcement

We're constantly told what we're not able to do: usually by T.Aldous when he's either disrupting progress or covering his butt. We do get some things right, actually...

In yesterday's lending team briefing Bronwyn and Salome told the staff that they should be looking around to see if any ideas for changes in the library come to mind. We know that a lot needs to be done: the last-minute arrangements and installations of nearly two decades ago are stuck in aspic because T.Aldous has obfuscated his way around stopping two lots of Group Librarians' plans for rejigging everything. Doreen's decided that enough is enough and she's canvassing staff for ideas prior to a big shift-around.

"You new folk in particular should have a look around and make a note of any ideas," says Salome. "The rest of us have been living with work-arounds for so long that we've forgotten how annoying the problems really are."

One of the new bods takes Bronwyn to one side later on.

"It's really good that we're being asked our opinions. I've not worked anywhere where my opinions counted for anything."

All cynicism aside, there's a certain sadness to this tale. Don't get me wrong: I'm glad that the girls asked their staff for their opinions (and meant it); and I'm glad that they got such a nice response. But it's awful that anybody should have such a poverty of expectation. Let's hope we don't betray it.

The enlightenment

Seth's been out playing Mr. Shifter all day. When he comes back in he's collared by T.Aldous. All becomes clear...

"Tomorrow I want you to bring back some boxes of booksale books from Milkbeck. There's not many, just twenty or so."

"Where are they going? There's no room."

"I just knew you were going to be difficult."

It's been a while since we last talked about boxes

Arriving back at the Nerve Centre we discover that — at last! — we've received some stock deliveries. The girls don't seem as relieved and delighted as they should be so, like an eedjit, I ask.

"Mary's told us that we need to shift through them quickly because there's no room left on this floor."

This is the the floor full of very large boxes; and boxes of book sale items; and extremely large boxes; not to mention SureStart packs, BookStart Treasure Chests; boxes of ***king Up books for Year Seven kids and a pile of boxes dumped on us by the Book Trust for delivery to schools who aren't fussed. Oh, and three broken desks that T.Aldous insists on our hanging onto. And some shelving. And a spinner. And a box of bookmarks featuring Larry Grayson telling us to read more books. And the old stock from Noddy and Glass Road that didn't move into the new premises. And some decrepit fiche readers. And some "reading group" books that have been being sorted out next week for the past two years. And some Italian books that somehow reappeared in the dead of one night. And some fluorescent light bulbs that are the wrong size. And a horse blanket.

For our next trick we will secrete the Albert Hall in the void of a ping-pong ball.

It would be marvellous on the beach in summer

Frog and I are doing some work in Windscape Library this afternoon so we decided that we might as well have us lunch in the park while it's not raining. As we were sat sitting by the pond, throwing chips to the ducks, we had a joint shiver of existential angst.

"You do realise that if we just stayed here and spent the afternoon feeding the ducks and didn't do any work nobody would give a shit?"

"Happen. So long as we clocked in and clocked out. They don't care what you deliver just so long as you put the hours in."

"When do you reckon Mary will ring the library to speak to one or other of us?"

"Two o'clock prompt."

The email requiring an urgent answer was sent at one-thirty.

E'ats shō¯ots and, leaves

We've had some children's approvals sent through for Frog and Jessie to have a look at. The children's edition of the popular Apostrophe Police Handbook doesn't inspire. As Jessie says:

"I yield to nobody in my utter devotion to the comma but I can't be bothered reading a whole book about it!"

Tele-phoney

We're a bit thin on the ground today (I wonder how often I've said that). T.Aldous surveys the serried ranks of nobody there and wanders over to Noreen in the Acq. Team.

"I'm very worried about telephone calls getting answered," he says.

"If we hear a 'phone ringing and it's not answered we pick it up and either take a message or try and hunt down whoever's being asked for. That's what we've been doing ever since we moved in here with you."

"We need to have some sort of a system."

Self-discipline I can only dream about stops her from saying: "You could answer your 'phone occasionally."

Snap, crackle and shriek

A classic. I'll leave you to guess the main protagonist.

"People think I'm fussing about with the book sale but I'm not, it's very important."

"While you're here, have you done the job descriptions for the pay and grading review? The deadline's Thursday."

"No, I haven't had the time, I've been busy with the telephone bill for Glass Road Library."

The mirror crack'd

One of 'those' disputes, so beloved of libraries:

"Staff in branch libraries do not do stock-editing. They don't know how to do stock-editing and it isn't part of their job," say T.Aldous and Julia.

"So that memo you sent you sent us last year telling us to remove all stock more than five years old and detailing the criteria for removal of the dead or tatty stock that you wanted us to remove before our stock figures were inspected was just a mirage then was it?"

Number Five and a lining of Lake

Warner is not happy. He's had a very difficult conversation with a councillor who cannot understand why we've not moved Roadkill Library into its new premises yet. Nor can many other people: the project's been rolling on for the best part of three years and it's been vacant for the best part of a year. Warner's done his best to mollify and now he wants to know what the big problem is. T.Aldous tells him.

He and Julia can't agree on the colour of the shelving.

The Girding of Loins

Staff Room conversation:

"What's that you're reading?"

"Seeing how things are I thought I'd best re-read my Machiavelli."

"What's that?"

"Well, 'The Prince' is a good primer on realpolitik. And the 'Discourses' are a good grounding in civics."

"So which is that?"

"'The Art of War'"

Holy Moses! Have a look!

Your organisation buys a whiteboard, puts it up on the wall and you're in business, right?

Wrong.

This is what happened to Jim when Management Group decided, eventually, to have a whiteboard so that we could leave notes for whoever's dumped with the job of answering people's 'phones when they're off-site (or, in the case of T.Aldous and Mary, when they can't be arsed to answer their own 'phones).

You decide you're getting a whiteboard so your senior managers measure all the available walls, decide which wall it's going on and then order the whiteboard. Once it arrives your senior managers measure it, decide on its going on a different wall and tell you to send it back. You then get a replacement and are instructed to leave it in a dark place, jutting out into a fire exit, to mature for a few weeks. When your senior boss is on leave you get the whiteboard fixed to the wall you first thought of -- the most appropriate one -- and everyone starts using it. When they get back, follow orders to order the replacement whiteboard. When you receive the whiteboard, your senior managers will inspect all the available walls, their having decided at length in the previous management meeting where it should go, and instruct the caretaker to Do Nothing. A suitable interval having relapsed, lose patience and ask the caretaker to get the thing stuck on the wall while your chief's distracted. Once the holes are drilled in the wall your chief will toddle along and instruct the caretaker to Do Nothing. Your senior managers will then measure the walls and instruct you to order a Bigger Whiteboard. Spurn junior colleagues' suggestion that perhaps you should get a tin of blackboard paint and some chalk. Or tar and feathers. Order the Biggest Whiteboard In The Catalogue. When you receive the whiteboard, your senior managers will inspect all the available walls. Repeat ad nauseam.

Next to the bucket

Pansy isn't happy with the idea of shitting where she eats when the disabled bogs are getting installed at Gypsy Lane. Like Alexander dealing with the Gordian Knot, Julia gets straight to the solution:

"If you don't like it you can always pop down the road and ask the hairdressers if they'll let you use their toilets."

That bit where they put a bag over your head and then hit you with a sock stuffed with wet sand

"You know that communications strategy Management Group was working on at the beginning of the year?"

"Yes..."

"When will we get to see it?"

"We're waiting for T.Aldous to OK the draft's being circulated to staff for comment."

Great Caesar's ghost!

I'm getting to be a Blogthings addict.

Your Superpower Should Be Invisibility

You are stealthy, complex, and creative. You never face problems head on. Instead, you rely on your craftiness to get your way. A mystery to others, you thrive on being a little misunderstood. You happily work behind the scenes... because there's nothing better than a sneak attack! Why you would be a good superhero: You're so sly, no one would notice... not even your best friends Your biggest problem as a superhero: Missing out on all of the glory that visible superheroes get

What Should Your Superpower Be?

78%How Addicted to Blogging Are You?

Playing the gender card

I'm at Glass Road, setting up a learning workstation. Chatting with Rosy, the assistant there, I say: "Did you know Lola's pregnant?"

"She's not the only one."

"Why? Who else is?"

"I'm hoping that T.Aldous will have retired by the time I'm back from maternity leave."

He sighed

Milton creeps into the office, sits down and puts his head in his hands.

"I've lost the will to live."

We have a chat about staff training opportunities and it slowly dawns on me that he's depending on my coming up with positive suggestions to counter his despairing conclusion that we haven't a hope in hell of setting up any staff development regime with some members of Management Group being as they are. I actually agree with him but being somewhat sneakier than him I come up with some workarounds which might be viable.

Just at the point where he's perking up and starting to fire up ideas of his own T.Aldous appears in the doorway.

"Sorry to interrupt but we need to finish our conversation."

Some folk were more sprightly walking to the tumbril.

For some of us the world smells of shit and blackberries

A 'phone call from Pansy at Gypsy Lane.

"You can tell he's been in this morning."

"How come?"

"He's been rooting round in all the drawers and cupboards."

"Did you not do that thing where you leave a sheet of paper face up in the top drawer saying: 'just out of curiosity, what were you looking for?'"

"You can get away with that sort of thing, I can't."

Some people are defeated before they enter the field of battle.

Pansy tells me that Gypsy Lane isn't being closed while they put in "disabled toilets." During the key phases of the operation staff will be equipped with a commode in the staff room.

"Not exactly hygenic, is it, having a commode where you're eating your lunch."

"I can see that it's not ideal. I wonder what happens if one of you wants to eat her butties and the other needs the loo... Are you ringing from the staff room now?"

"Yes."

"There's you are then: you should ring T.Aldous up while you're on the commode. 'Excuse me while I wipe.' If you do it often enough he'll either relent and organise something a bit less demeaning or else you'll get some time off for mental incapacity."

For you, Tommy, the meeting is not over

Management Group's meeting this morning is at Gypsy Lane. I don't know why, nor do I care that much save that none of us know who's in charge in their absence (of the second-tier officers, Frog assumes responsibility, I'm happy to let him and Nancy hasn't been known to be responsible for anything much other than her cocoa).

Jim arrives back from the meeting a little flustered. He's due in to a meeting at 1 o'clock and had been trying to escape T.Aldous' clutches since twelve o'clock (T.Aldous only set off for the meeting at twenty to eleven).

"I kept trying to excuse myself but couldn't get out."

"You could have just left."

"No I couldn't: he'd parked across the driveway entrance so that none of us could get out."

He comes in here reeking of Ovaltine...

Somebody - we couldn't imagine who - ordered rather a lot of healthy living for the over fifties magazines. About five thousand of the things. Somebody, possibly the same somebody, has been creeping upstairs in the dead of night to lay out large numbers of copies in fans and ripples on every available flat surface. Before shuffling the book sale stock and fussing about the display thereof.

On an entirely unrelated subject, we hear that T.Aldous is filling in an extra hours form for the late nights he's working. I can only hope it's so that somebody high up and pause before signing the form and ask: "why on earth are you spending any time doing that?"

How swell

Lola's been putting on weight lately in a very noticeable fashion. You don't like to say anything really, well we don't 'cos we're nice like that. She finally confesses:

"I'm pregnant!"

"Really? You don't look it." [How some people can keep a straight face...]

We explain as best we can that it's bad form for the publican to drain his own stock. It turns out that the lure of Bookstart goodies isn't the motive behind her condition.

"I'm hoping that by the time I get back from maternity leave T.Aldous will have retired!"

"It is a human baby you're carrying isn't it? They come out after nine months, I read that in a book."

Who should run the public library service?

This is the question that The Bookseller's asking at the moment. I can't say I'm enamoured of the choices. Blogger lets you build polls these days so I'll have a bash at doing a better job of it.

Knowledge is power

For the umpteenth time today somebody's said: "you don't expect them to actually tell us about that do you?" If it's not pay and grading it's the current status of one or other sets of boxes or the timing of the moving of libraries or the names and details of new members of staff who seem to think that we'd have sorted out their pay codes, payroll numbers and/or access to the network, email and the internet before they arrive at work and not some time in week two. It occurs to me to worry about the ethical issues arising from the mind-reading powers it is assumed that we must have.

"Ooh yes," says Betty. "We might find out something we shouldn't know about."

"Or even worse something that we should know about!"

I offer to buy some Bacofoil so that we can fashion hats to deaden our powers of telepathy so that we don't accidentally intrude unbidden into the minds of managers.

Yesterday's playthings

More mutterings in the Acq Team. They've been trying and failing to get a meeting with Mary about the Pay & Grading Review before next week's deadline for response to the response. A meeting in this context means her being in the same place as them for more than five minutes and talking with them about the Review results and what, if anything they need to do about it, as opposed to talking about sweeties, squirrels, class numbers and pencils. Every day they ask: "are we going to talk about this today?" And every day they're told: "well, I'm busy today but I've got a meeting tomorrow morning so we could get together before that."

In lieu of a meeting she's had them cutting out sections of the responses and sticking them onto sheets of A3 paper "to make it easier for me to see what's what." This beggars belief.

T.Aldous negotiated an extension to the process to next week. In this service an extension provides an opportunity to put off till tomorrow what you could have put off yesterday but put it off a bit. Still, it's only people's livelihoods isn't it? Not like it's anything important.

He laughs at scars who never felt a wound

Frog and I have arranged to set some time aside to work on some children's interactives on the web and setting up some publishing space for reports, statistics and peer-to-peer conversations about the services we're providing for children in our libraries (which is something we do surprisingly well in the circumstances). We both need something positive to do: he's knackered after the usual gruelling and gruesome summer holiday programme and I'm in one of my "the web catalogue's the second-biggest source of issue figures in the Borough and nobody gives a flying fuck" moods. This is something positive and it's something we'd have done a long time ago if it hadn't been for a few corporate problems which still haven't been resolved.

As a courtesy Frog tells Mary what we're planning to do.

"Just so long as it's a children's interactive area and not a Frog and Kevin interactive area."

This is her one and only input to our web presence in the twelve years we've had it. I feel like telling her to shove it up her arse.

Gurgling, gargling, belching and leaking while the world tidies up its image

Toilets feature distressingly often in this blog, which I had hoped would be a haven of organisational analysis and literary appreciation.

Out of the blue we're told that Senebene and Gypsy Lane are going to be closed for a fortnight while disabled toilets are installed. (I'm assuming that these are toilets for disabled people and not toilets that have been disabled. Or at least not yet awhile.) We'll have to shift furniture, computers and bookstock out of the way of gentleman builders at the same time as we'll be shifting Roadkill Library to its new home, leaving half its chattels behind it, and probably coinciding with the panic clear out of the old Glass Road site. Oh joy. Typically, the time frame's dictated by the builders' windows of opportunity rather than the diktats of service provision.

The work will take a month at each site. In weeks three and four the builders will be covering the work with a tarpaulin ("can you tell what it is yet?") and staff will be using chemical toilets for their motions. We've suggested that we string banners across the fronts of the libraries stating

Committed to excellence.

We'd sooner shit in a bucket than close the library doors!

Any colour so long as it's blue

There's always someone worse off than yourself. One of my colleagues has just received a circular memorandum from his director telling all staff that from now on there'll only be blue pens available in the stationery supplies. He tells them that it's a wasteful duplication to be stocking both black and blue pens. By my reckoning, even taking into account any price differentials and increased discounts for volume the annual saving couldn't be much more than half the cost of his time in thinking up this nonsense.

This isn't normal behaviour. Even by my jaded experience this isn't natural. There's probably some evil bastard somewhere including this sort of thing in their library management courses. The UN War Crimes Committee should be scouring the library schools of the world to put a stop to it.

And what would we then do with the poor damaged creatures left behind to fend in the wild with nothing more than a library manager's salary to support them? I suggest that they could undergo a comprehensive course of retraining by smacking them about the back of the head with a plank. Or they could be humanely euthanised by smacking them about the back of the head with a plank. Whatever course of action is chosen, smacking them about the back of the head with a plank looks like a sound option.

Je suis un exhibition et non une artiste

Frog's wading his way through the number-crunching for the Big Wild Read, Bookstart and one or other of the bewildering variety of new give-a-schoolchild-a-book initiatives when Mary comes along.

"While you're not doing anything, could you have a look at some of the boxes that have come in from Glass Road?"

Library management in a nutshell: sitting for an afternoon cutting ribbons into 2cm lengths is work; statistics and reports necessary to justify funding streams is 'not doing anything.'

Gah...

Some trains of thought shouldn't ever leave the station

I'm assured that this is a true tale of telephone calling people:

"Acquisitions Team, Noreen speaking, how can I help you?"

"Do you play dominoes?"

"Err... no."

"I'm ringing to chase up an invoice."

Another for the spotter's book

eBay Man has thrown another wobbler at Milkbeck Library. This time it's because he's missed out on the camera he was bidding for because the staff wouldn't close any of the other customers' sessions so that he could get on and put on his killer last-minute bid. Tosspot.

Monkey magic

T.Aldous popped his head round the doorway half an hour ago.

"I need a full analysis of the stock at Catty and Carbootsale libraries this morning for a meeting I'm having this afternoon. I need the amount of stock, the age, and so on so that we can have a look at completely reviving the stock in the new year. Can I leave it with you?"

Okay, okay, yes I can do it, but that's not the point. I've run the report, using some code I wrote for some analyses I did a few weeks back, and it won't take more than ten minutes to pull it into a spreadsheet and tart it up. Then I'll go for my lunch. When I come back I'll send him the analysis.

Nondescript or Imperfectly Known Animals

Democracy's all well and good but look at the type of people who have the vote...

A chap's just popped into Milkbeck Library to apologise for his behaviour this morning. This morning's conversation with Molly went like this:

"Can I help you?"

"I'm ordering some things on the internet and they're asking me for an email address. Can I have yours?"

"You don't want to give them ours. They want your email address so that they can send you a receipt and if anything goes wrong you've got something to work from."

"No, I want to give them your email address."

"Honestly, you have to give them your address."

"I don't have an email address, I don't hold with them. I don't trust computers, people get all your details and pretend that they're you. That's why I shred everything at home." [Bear in mind that he's paying for this online order with his credit card!]

"Well, I'm not letting you have our email address."

"I'm not going to do anything untoward with it. I'm just ordering some underpants from a shop in Manchester."

"You're not having our email address."

Exit customer in high dudgeon. Anyway, he cam back to apologise:

"I'm really sorry about my behaviour this morning. I lost my rag for no good reason. I think you misunderstood what I was asking for. Can I have your email address..."

Molly reckons they'll be seeing him again. I told her to give him the Chief Exec's email address.

Opening a can of worms

A note from Jim:

"You know all that stuff on lis-pub-libs about open source library management systems? Does that mean the MLA is going to be giving every library service a new, free LMS to fit in with all the new programmes we're supposed to be following?"

"No," I explained.

Isn't it just the most amazing thing?

Poppy at Catty Library has had a bit of a shock. Looking at the rota it turns out that she's running the library on her own all day Saturday with two Relief Assistants. To add piquancy to the mix it's the first day for both of them.

Hettie's desperately trying to persuade people to re-jig their home lives to do a few extra hours to help out. Not for the first time I can't help wondering if it would be more cost-effective and efficient to get vacancies filled (and with permanent staff, not temps from the agency) rather than having supervisory staff spending at least five hours a week juggling time tables and ringing round to try and get enough bodies in the right-ish places at the right-ish times.

The early worm gets eaten

I noticed that Daisy was logged on just after eight this morning.

"I thought you don't start work till nine?"

"I don't but I've got a new girl starting today and there's only three of us in all day so I thought I'd best get in early to do the timesheets, sick returns, petty cash and the monitoring returns before she got in so's I can give her some time for introductions and a bit of induction and she doesn't walk into some big panic or other because I've not done some admin. work in time for himself or the people in the Town Hall. I want to give her a few days before she realises we're a shambles."

Sounds fair enough to me. But what do I know? Julia noticed the time on the monitoring returns emails and gave Daisy a bollocking for starting work outside her set hours.

Forgotten canyons

"There's thirty boxes of books in the cellar at the old Glass Road library," Seth tells me. "The heating's not on and the weather's been awful so it'll all be sodden damp."

"Nil desp," I tell him. "In a few month's time we'll be able to sell them to gardens for mulching their garden beds."

eBay gum

We've found out why we're not allowed to sell booksale stock on eBay. The council's worried that if we get a PayPal account we'll be flogging off the old buildings, too.

Just walk on by...

Conversation:

"Jim's looking a bit pissed off."

"He'd arranged a Management Group meeting about stock management targets and stock selection policy so that he can do the report to committee about the MLA performance indicators."

"Yes, that'd piss me off, too."

"That's not what did it. When it came to the meeting Jim and Doreen were sat there for half an hour wondering where the others had gotten to."

"Typical. If Management Group doesn't want to manage stock, and I know they don't want anything to do with personnel management, what exactly are they managing?"

"The colour of carpets and the disposal of sanitary towels."

Summer stock

Another day, another non-delivery of stock. Like the rest of us the suppliers have been trying to cut costs by outsourcing functions, in this case the delivery drivers. What happens now is that instead of the suppliers "inefficiently" packing the books up, putting them on a van and getting them to us in manageable batches within a day or so they now pack them off to a delivery company's warehouse where they wait their turn and come to us in huge doses in between famines. Noreen's taken the day off and Betty's leaving early to wander around the garden centre but they're still scratching for work. When the log jam finally fails there'll be another delivery of seventy-plus boxes and T.Aldous whinging about there not being enough room for him to arrange to bring back all the shit from one or another far-flung outpost of the empire.

This, apparently, is the MLA's preferred model of stock delivery to one-man-and-his-dog branch libraries in small country towns.

Paint your wagon

One of the girls has had another tattoo for her birthday and has sent a photo of it to Frog on his mobile 'phone. An audience clusters about his shoulders.

"Where's she had it done then?"

"At the tattooists."

"No... whereabouts on her body?"

"I don't know. It looks ominously white."

"Is that shaving stubble?"

"It'll be her back then."

The patience of Jobs

More mutterings in the staff room about the pay & grading review. I've not heard mine yet but I was late doing the paperwork as I held out as long as possible on the not-unreasonable grounds that I have no idea what my job is any more. The acq team is doubly pissed off because they're still waiting for their grades to be reassessed from before the millenium (it's hanging about pending review, delayed by our implementing automated ordering (1999), the retirement of van driver (2000), the first Best Value review (2002) and sundry other factors, like T. Aldous "has ideas about restructuring how the team works", and is now further in abeyance while the library service decides how the MLA stock procurement plans affect what we're doing, or not).

The sense of resentment is further heightened because Betty's been waiting all this time to have her job title changed from "Clerk Typist" to "Acq. Assistant." This entails no change in status or pay but confers on Betty the recognition that she does, indeed, order, receive and invoice stock and it isn't just some strange, exotic dream. In the mean time the members of Management Group have been re-titled twice and had two substantial upward regrades. There is a truly peculiar attitude to job titles here: Jimmy Huddersfield was Acquisitions Librarian for twenty years and ran the Procurement Team (as was) for twelve of them before they finally relented and changed his job title from "Catalogue Librarian."

We're being good and not telling the ludo joke

Seth and Kevin aren't having the best of days. Mary had arranged for the SureStart Centre at Sorry to take delivery of a palette of bookstart freebies and one of our unused desks. (The desk's unused because we've not been filling some of our vacancies for years and it's to go to the Centre because it's in the way of a pile of boxes due to arrive from the old Glass Road site.) So the boys load the van and tool over to Sorry. "Pile it all up against the grey wall," Mary tells them.

When they get there it's not plain sailing:

• The people there know nothing about it.
• They say there's no room at the inn.
• There isn't a grey wall there.
• "While you're here, can you move all those Bookstart packs from over there?"

They ring Mary, who rings the bloke who was supposed to be making the arrangements at the Sorry end.

"Where should these Bookstart packs go?"

"I'm not bothered."

So they come back with more than they went away with.

In too many respects this place reminds me of the blind, stupid bureaucratic processes in "The Good Soldier Švejk" (no, of course we've not got it in stock: it's a classic of European literature).

The pursuit of the twelve-pound bluebottle

As I come into work I notice some prat fly-fishing in the River Helminth as it passes in between the NCP car park and the skinners' depot. The river at this point is six inches deep, save in those occasional dam pools created by shopping trolleys, condoms and old dog shit. I can't imagine he'd be catching anything save cholera.

The bears survived but were shot on reaching landfall

Oh what's the point?

You might want to mill about a bit to make up numbers

All the main libraries in this Borough is being staffed by three people each. Bear in mind that that's to provide lending and reference functions and school holiday activities, summer reading game and the such. Backstage is no better: aside from the vacancies we've got one person on leave so we're struggling to keep up with taking T.Aldous' 'phone calls.

Just around the corner there'll be blue skies ahead

Pottersbury Road Library was interesting: they're having disabled access doors installed and, as the school caretaker refuses to allow them to use the school entrance or the new doorway (the workmen having engineered a corridor of safety for customers which might have involved people walking in some brick dust) customers have to go around the back of the building and go in via the fire exit. Unfortunately there is no hand hold on the exterior of the fire exit door so they can't get in without banging on the door. I managed to get in by using my screwdriver as a jemmy. Hedi tried propping the door open with the only heavy-enough object available — a pedestal drawer unit — but people with trolleys couldn't get in. I'd say that this must be a killer for the visitor figures but we discovered that somebody's covered the counter sensors with blu-tack.

Just see what cultural influences you'll get out of that then

Henry's pissed off. He's just had a 'phone call from Dutch Bend:

"Is it OK for this customer to photocopy a chapter from this document? She wrote this chapter herself."

"The college owns the copyright but I don't think they'll kick up a fuss in the circumstances."

"Should I give her a discount on the photocopying?"

"Why on earth would you give her a discount?"

"Leave it with me, I'll sort out some arrangement."

Without justice, what are kingdoms but great robberies?

"Maximising the potential of the workforce" is evidently the latest local government vogue, as the latest "Bobbing Up: An Excellence Toolkit" bumpf is jam-packed with it. Sadly, the sincerity of its impact may have been compromised slightly by Human Resources' sending all staff the results of the Pay & Grading Review, which (due to financial constraints) has led the assessors to declare that it doesn't matter if you and your boss both agree that you're doing a piece of work you can't possibly be doing it on your scale and you may be dropped a scale or two for unfounded boasted. (I paraphrase slightly). To add insult to injury, people were sent each other's results.

This is particularly hard on our Library Assistants, who get a lot of responsibility dumped on them for some of the worst pay in the council. There are times when some of them drive me crackers but I can unequivocably say that they're worth the money, and most of them are worth considerably more than that if only they'd realise it. And because they don't realise it and don't play up their positives they get treated like crap.

They don't all do themselves a favour. Dagmar at Doggedly will run through all the worst-case scenarios possible to the point where you're just ready to give up completely but when you get there and start preparing an activity or event you'll find that she's done as much preparation as you could hope for and is keen to make sure that it goes as well as possible. We were doing some publicity materials for branches as asked around for information about what's going on when Maureen at Roadkill told us "I can't think of anything really." Besides the fact the library's moving house soon, it turns out (after ten minutes' conversation) that she's got a reading group going; a monthly writing group; twice-weekly art and craft activities; home safety sessions with the local gendarmes, etc. etc. etc. And Hedi at Pottersbury Road can paint a long picture of despair about her library which is entirely at odds with the picture you see when you're spending an hour sorting out some of the hardware problems: there she is, cutting out pictures of butterflies, helping small children make bookmarks and making a miserably wet summer holiday afternoon quite a nice experience for them.

Why on earth do they persist in underselling themselves and everything they do? I suppose part of it is that so much local service development has to be done under the management radar. (The week T.Aldous was trooping himself round the libraries saying that visitor counts were dangerously low and we should do things like have reading groups and the such he was also telling somebody on no account should she start a reading group as it wasn't her place to do so.) (And somebody else did get a bollocking for letting somebody start a reading group who "didn't have a good degree.") And so much of what passes for management in this service is devoted to making sure that people know their place. I suppose we're all just cowed into submission. Which might be our maximised potential. (sigh)

Snippety snippety snip

Frog's sat sitting at his desk cutting two-inch-long strips of ribbon. Lots and lots of two-inch-long strips of ribbon: he's got to convert a five metre length of the stuff into bits. And he's not happy about it. So why is he doing it?

"It's for this week's craft events in the libraries."

"Why not just send them a length of ribbon each?"

"It takes as long for me to do this as it does to answer all the 'phone calls asking how long the pieces need to be; what happens if there's a bit left over; who gets to use the scissors; etc. etc. etc. and so on. And they would. You know they would. Remember what happened about the face masks. Never again."

It's true. Every library was sent a batch of photocopied face masks to cut out as required during one of the early summer events. The 'phones were red hot: who does the cutting out? what happens if they want to colour them in? "I spent three hours straight cutting these out and now I've got RSI" (Frog's nicer than me: I'd have used the word 'pillock' in response to that one).

A place belonging to nowhere

Millie took her mum to the bingo last night, parking in the municipal car park in the centre of Catty. As they were getting out of the car her mum pointed at the building next door, covered in scaffolding and with all its windows boarded up.

"What an awful building. When are they finally pulling it down?"

"That's the library I work in, mum."

Escape Committee update

We've had a message from Lemuel: he's been told to retire due to ill-health. It's a shame, really, as he's a nice bloke but he's much better off not getting wound up here. Especially with the upcoming carpet drama.

Almost all that separates us from the barbarians

There are some consolations. If CILIP wasn't so damned useless at public relations we might have to suffer drivel like this.

A monograph on a difficult order

Urgent 'phone call from Doggedly: having agreed with Dagmar as to where we should put the new printer, which she insists has to be under the counter, she's kicking off about it. Poor old Lupin from IT has been getting a major earache about it; he just thought he was going over to install the printer and is regretting it massively.

The problem is that although the printer needs to go under the desk Dagmar doesn't want to have to kneel down for the paper. I'm not sure how that works.

"Any inspirations as to where to put the printer?" I ask Lupin.

"Oh yes."

In the end we jerry-rig a network point and move the printer from any of the previously objectionable locations. To my utter relief and amazement Dagmar is happy about it. Job done. Is it time to go home yet?

We may begin where we please,We shall never come to an end;

We have a new set of very large boxes cluttering the Acq. Team's corner. The waves of resentment seething between the team and these boxes can be seen shimmering in the half light. I should know better than to do this:

"Which are these?"

"Books for Sharing," replies Noreen. "Urgent job we had to do for Mary."

"Where for?"

"That box is for Helminthdale. That's for Roadkill. That's for Noddy. Or at least that's what they were bought for. They'll be down here until it's time to withdraw them."

"Haven't we just got the display stands for these?"

"Yes, but we can't send the stuff upstairs because Doreen doesn't know where they're going and she thinks it won't be worth putting them out if the carpet's going to be replaced this November."

"And we're supposed to be moving Roadkill some time in the next few months..."

"And we can't send them out to Noddy because they can't put the stand out because of the photocopier."

"But there isn't a photocopier at Noddy. T.Aldous kiboshed it.... Yes, yes, I know, I know, I'm sorry."

"We had to drop everything to get them ordered and invoiced and processed. Dead waste of time that was."

"Is there any way for me to retreat gracefully from this conversation?"

"Not gracefully, no. You should know better."

Eternity in an hour

Bronwyn's pulling her hair out trying to work out the leave entitlement for one of the new Relief Assistants. She asks me for help (desperate woman). The problem lies in the model examples provided by Human Resources:

Jane works 20 hours per week. Her entitlement is:

20 / 37.5 x 140
= 74.6666 hours' holiday
= 75 hours 6 minutes

Between us it took us ten minutes to realise just what the problem is here. And another ten to believe it had become official mathematics.

*(To spare you our agonies: .66 of an hour is not sixty six minutes)

And here's a list of missing persons

Nipping into Dutch Bend I find things a bit spare. Jessie was scheduled to be lending a hand with the Big Wild Read Big Wild thingy at Catty but has ended up staying at Dutch Bend where Daisy and Bunty are otherwise holding the fort all day.

"I told Julia that we'd be struggling today. Do you know what she said? 'Well I'm on leave on Tuesday.'"

Sounds like someone aspires to T.Aldous' dizzying heights.

Ah yes...

"You know how you finish a conversation with somebody and then five minutes later you realise that it made no sense whatsoever?" asks Milton.

"All the time," I confess.

"I've just been talking to Dagmar at Doggedly. She's read that report in the Daily Mail about laser printers giving you cancer."

"Oh yes, another one..."

"She was telling me how she was having trouble breathing and kept catching her breath. So I promised I check up on it with Health and Safety."

I knew what was coming.

"It was only when I put the 'phone down that I remembered that it hadn't been installed yet and was still in the box in the back room."

It's all in the label

Jim's been co-opted onto the council's new Bobbing Up: An Excellence Toolkit Implementation Plan Working Party. His initial enthusiasm is soon dashed.

"Our first meeting was to decide on some outline aims for the Implementation Plan Working Party. I suggested that we should include 'Encouraging a can-do culture within the council.' In the end they decided on 'Looking at ways of encouraging greater involvement in implementation plans.'"

An audience with The Bash Street Kids

Frog can at last bear to talk about yesterday's frightfulness at Senebene. He turned up with the poet who was going to be doing the event to find that Beryl and Deidre had spent a couple of hours having to cope with a bunch of lads who probably could have done with a bit of a poke with a cattle prod. They settled down for all of ten seconds before playing up again. Eventually, Frog had to play the heavy and tell them that if they didn't settle down a bit they'd have to go away. Which is what had to happen. And lo it was that there wasn't anyone else left (they'd pigged off any less raucous kids).

"I've been doing this for twenty-three years and never lost an audience before," says Frog.

Sad to say, in real life there are always some people we're not going to reach, no matter how much we try.

Objet trouvée

Jollop vapour

One of the computer screens at Gypsy Lane has gone up in flames. Pansy sees the bright side:

"I'll tell you what, the smell of it's great for getting you to cough up a pile of catarrh."

Mulch

Frog's pissed off. He's come back in from a particularly fraught children's event at Senebene Library to find that his desk is covered in nearly-empty bags of compost. They've been sent in by branches who've been doing seed-planting activities for The Big Wild Read.

In any ordinary organisation they'd hang onto the stuff or chuck it out or something. Not here: everyone's so worried that they'll be held to account for every pennyweight of dirt and the bags besides that they've sent it back to Helminthdale to be on the safe side.

Just at this point I pop my head over the filing cabinet.

"Haven't you got this place cleared out for T.Aldous' sofas yet?"

"Don't talk to me about bloody sofas."

I think he needs his lunch.

Anon.

Popping into the Millipede and Clogger I bump into the Chair of the local Unison branch.

"I had two meetings with that bloody idiot last week," is his opening conversational gambit.

It's a while later before it occurs to me I didn't ask who we were talking about.

Spot checks

Helminthdale Council's started a series of spot-checks to make sure that nobody's found smoking in any of its public buildings, as per the recent change in law. It's our turn today. The chappie came in and let on to the counter staff as a courtesy. They rang down to let T.Aldous know, also as a courtesy. T.Aldous storms upstairs and upbraids the inspector:

"If you want to come and check the library you should have made an appointment."

The response was magisterial:

"I don't have to make appointments."

Grace under pressure

T.Aldous is just going into his meeting about the Children's Centre Bookdrop Project. He's decided to drag Lola along for the ride so that he's got someone to blame if he makes a tit of himself.

Lola's told both Frog and Mary about the meeting and they're not wholly impressed with the fact T.Aldous hadn't deigned to do so. Mary decides to be a bit firm about this one. T.Aldous concedes the point:

"You're not invited but you can come in if you want."

We've had the pixies in

Seth invites us to test our forensic skills.

"When I left last night everywhere was spick and span and the workroom was tidy, with just a couple of dozen boxes of booksale stock stacked up in the corner. This morning there's nothing stacked up in the corner of the workroom and there's empty cardboard boxes littering the lending library."

The work of a moment. We wonder what time Elvis left the building last night.

Knowledge workers

Bear this in mind...

1. Lola is leading the children's centre bookdrop project.
2. Frog is temporarily line-managing Lola and is responsible for the children's centre bookdrop project, together with all the rest of the children's library services.
3. Mary line-manages Frog and is responsible for children's library services, inter alia and is the signing-off officer for the children's centre bookdrop project.
4. T.Aldous is Chief Librarian and his only input on the children's centre bookdrop project was to hold up Lola's appointment for six of the twelve months of the life of the project.

T.Aldous is having a Children's Centre Bookdrop Project meeting with the regional organisers tomorrow morning.

1. He's told Lola to collate all the statistics this evening so that he can answer any questions that may arise.
2. Frog knows nothing about this meeting.
3. Mary knows nothing about this meeting.

T.Aldous' parting shot to Lola:

"Make sure that you show that the statistics can be audited if necessary. I don't want to look a fool in this meeting."

It's to be hoped he keeps his mouth shut then.

The uttermost coil of her bowels

Poppy Cloverdale's the latest with the lurgy. She was sick a few times before coming in to work at Catty Library and she's not too clever at the moment. Luckily, her shade of green doesn't clash with that of the carpet. A few of us have asked her why on earth she's dragged herself in (the answer, predictably, is because they're so short-staffed there'll be nobody to cover for lunchtime)(and of course we can't close for an hour because of staff sickness)(nor could we actually staff our libraries adequately in the first place). Eventually, she gives in to her illness and tells Julia that she needs to retreat home. Julia's response bears all the hallmarks of our human resource support strategies.

"Tell you what. If you work through your lunchtime you can go home at three o'clock."

Be Prepared 2

Probably not the same group's just turned up at Helminthdale unannounced. A panicky 'phone call tears Frog away from his preparing this afternoon's event at Gypsy Lane to talk to the group leader. He quickly improvises some things for them to do with the Big Wild Read craft tables and shows them where to find books and story discs suitable for this age group.

"Can somebody do a couple of hours' storytime for us, too?"

Frog made his excuses and left.

Be Prepared 1

Someone from one of the SureStart projects rang Thelma at Epiphany Library on Tuesday:

"We'll be bringing our SureStart group to the Library tomorrow afternoon. It'll be about twenty children, plus a few parents."

"You won't, you know. The library's not open on Wednesdays."

"It must be: we've sent letters out to parents and everything."

Green dilemma

Frog's having a crisis of ethics about servicing the next batch of Big Wild Read Wild Happenings: should he buy another bag of compost or should we start strip-mining the peat deposits in T.Aldous' office?