This is what happens when a) things get slow at the library b) Tim Burton makes a rather different version of "Alice in Wonderland" c) the librarians look for any opportunity to have a party.  Running the risk of looking 'mad as a hatter,' we appropriated the children's story hour room for our own celebratory purposes yesterday.  Our resident artist supplied the magnificent plethora of table decorations. 

(Incidentally, we also did a bit of research and discovered to what the phrase 'mad as a hatter' refers.  Apparently in the early days, the outer pieces of felt on men's hats were treated with mercury, a highly toxic substance which poisons slowly in increasingly mad stages.  Those who wore the hats were generally (comparatively) safe, but those who made the hats, the hatters, handled the treated fabric day in and day out, absorbing the mercury through their skin.  Therefore, most hatters went mad, hence the Mad Hatter.) Anyway, here are a few (or rather many) pictures of the decorations. We never figured out if the fish was 'One Fish' or 'Two Fish,' he's clearly not 'Red Fish' or 'Blue Fish.' The debate is still open.

After visiting the website of the Irish government, I know what I want to do for a living.  I want to be one of the photographers hired to help promote tourism in Ireland.  Everyone talks about their dream job-I think I've finally found mine. 

Ever since I can remember, Ireland has always held some mysterious fascination for me.  I think that is where my obsession with travel started.  Seriously, though, looking at these pictures, can you blame me?  Many places hold quite a bit of history, but for some reason, it seems as if Ireland has held onto its history in a more immediate way.  If fact, I was looking at different colleges in Ireland the other day and nearly all of them included classes, sometimes a major, in the Gaelic language.  This was particularly interesting since I remember seeing when I was a child a re-run of an episode, that looked like it was filmed in the early 80's or so, of National Geographic in which the narrator said that, except for the oldest generation in the most rural parts of Ireland, the Gaelic language was beginning to die out and would soon be lost forever, helped in no part by the fact that during the years prior to the creation of the Republic of Ireland, it was illegal to converse in anything but English. 

In the famous library at Trinity College in Dublin.  Ireland and books.  All anyone could ask of mortal life.

This is actually not in Ireland; it is the house C.S. Lewis bought outside of the town of Oxford, England.  This is my desktop picture to keep me motivated to not give up on my dream of travelling one day.  (I know, I know, the whole 'English/Irish' thing, I probably shouldn't.  But, hey Lewis is one (if not my most) of my favorite authors and he was Irish, so......)
If those haven't convinced you, perhaps this will.

Valentine's Day approaches.  ("The British are coming! The British are coming!)  When did Valentine's Day become such a test of patience?  Besides, testing my social patience is as pointless as training a rottweiler as a seeing eye dog.  Just kind of goes against nature.  Plus, as I explained last year, Valentine's Day has been taken entirely out of historical context and convoluted beyond historically accurate recognition.  Therefore, for the sake of our children's education we should completely eradicate this senseless holiday.  In their best interest.  And for the sake of their teeth.  Also, I hear that childhood obesity is reaching epidemic proportions-no need to pull out the tofu-dogs, just eliminate Valentine's Day.  Anyway, believe it or not, I don't necessarily hate Valentine's Day.  I just hate having to be conscious for Valentine's Day.  I'm truly glad other people thoroughly enjoy this amorous holiday, I personally just don't care.  If I don't care that they do care, they shouldn't care that I don't care, correct?  It's only polite.  I mean, really, it's Valentine's Day for heaven's sake.  Be kind and return the favor of ignoring me. Aside from that, by the time the holiday rolls around, I am entirely prejudiced against it.  Beginning in late January the Valentine's Day commericials for jewelry begin, and, truthfully they make me physically sick.  Seriously.  Diamonds?! On Valentine's Day?!  I'm sorry, but unless it is a multiple of ten anniversary, an engagement, or the death of a relative, diamonds should not pass hands.  Period. 
            It's not the whole "single's awareness" thing; it's just I've always hated public displays of affection and sentimentality.  And pink.  Pepto pink.  Some pink is cool, but not the kind which leaves the jingle from the Pepto Bismol commercials playing on repeat in my head for the rest of the day.  But, being single, you are often mistakenly perceived as an object of pity.  People want to give you suggestions as to how to 'catch a man.'  Well, personally, if he's running, I probably don't want that one after all.  Unless it was Paul Newman.  Or James Mcavoy.  Or Johnny Depp.  Or Mr. Knightley.  Or Darcy.  Or C.S. Lewis.  Or Mike Rowe, then I wouldn't have to get a new driver's license.  I'd even take Edmund Bertram if I didn't have to run too fast, even if he was an idiot.  So, checking my e-mail the other night and stumbling across this article was like saying, "Oh, look, rolling your eyes too many times really does make them stick."  I am now wall-eyed, my friends.  But the title was irresistible.  Dating Advice: 7 Mistakes Single Women Make.  The inspiration came from the author of the article reading some random advice book.  First of all, my take on advice books and survival shows is this: in case of fire Stop, Drop and Roll.  Anything else, use common sense.  When common sense isn't to be had, trust your instincts of self-preservation.  If those don't kick in, it doesn't really matter what love-life advice you get, does it?  The species won't last long in that line anyway.  So, I'll address a few of the mistakes which amused me the most.  I know everyone is simply thrilled.

1. We feel entitled.
Gottlieb: “Women try to be good friends to each other. We say, ‘You deserve this, you’re so great! You’re such a good catch! Any man would be lucky!’ [Men don’t say that to each other.] We are good catches, but we also are human and we’re not perfect and somebody’s going to have to put up with us for the rest of his life. And we forget. My dating coach said, write down all the reasons a guy would not want to date you.

3 things about this-A) I hope men don't say that to each other, that would just be, well, weird.  B) a 'dating coach'?!!!!  Since when has there been such a thing as a 'dating coach'?  What, is that like a physical therapist for the socially inept?  (And I can say that because I am socially inept, but I deal with it the traditional way-I have a well-stocked bookshelf.)  C)"...write down all the reasons a guy would not want to date you."  Great. Thanks.  I know most of my flaws and suspect the rest.  Thanks for reminding me.  That would be one reason why I'm not dating.  I know my limitations, and I have enough sense to realize it would be unfair to inflict them on some poor unwitting man.  Which is why I don't date.  Again.  Thank you for that painful reminder.  I'll just go back to my books now, thanks. 

3. We’re judgmental.

Gottlieb: “The guys I interviewed for the book said women judge them so much. Women gave me 300 reasons they wouldn’t go on a second date with a guy, and men gave 3. When guys are ready for that stage of life, they find someone who is good enough that they’re totally in love with—but that person may not seem to the outside world to be as appealing in superficial ways—maybe she’s not as accomplished or funny as the last girl. Whatever he sees in her, he does. Guys don’t sit and micro-analyze a woman the way a woman would with a man. He knows she’s not as hot as the last girl he dated, but that’s okay. She’s hot enough.”

I wasn't even going to touch this one, but couldn't resist.  First and foremost, the last two lines- I'm sorry, but what? So, it's okay that your wife isn't as hot as the girl before her?!  Oh. No. Secondly, just simply being 'good enough'?  Frankly, that's insulting.  No wife should tell her husband that, and no husband should say that to his wife.  That's like saying "Well, you're not what I'd hoped for, but I suppose I can settle."  If that isn't romantic, I don't what is.  Secondly, I'd like to know what those three reasons men gave are.  A brain? Maturity? An average decible voice? A distaste for daisy dukes and tube tops?  Sober?  Sane?  Responsible?  Who knows......

7. We think he needs to share every interest.

Gottlieb: “We say, ‘I’m a writer, but he doesn’t read! I’m creative.’ But people can be creative in different ways, and the fact that he doesn’t read the same books that you do, well, maybe he wants someone who he can talk about the baseball game with but you’re not that person. The guy doesn’t have to be one-stop shopping. You’re not going to share every single interest, and that’s okay. The shared interest should be, Do we want the same things out of life? Do we both want to be married right now?”

Personally, I don't want whoever I date/marry to share all my interests.  The reason I chose the hobbies I did was to get away from people.  You take a camera, drive to the middle of nowhere and spend hours by myself.  I read so that when I get tired of people I can simply shut the book and walk away.  I play the piano so that I'm not required to talk, etc. etc.  So, in the long run, it isn't sad that I have no reason to celebrate Valentine's Day-it's the best thing for everyone involved. 

(and one more for the history people)

(Look up Valentine's Day 1929, Chicago, if it doesn't make sense-or just look at last year's post here.)

So, 'snow' in North Carolina looks less like snow and more like, well, ice.  Oh well, beggars can't be choosers, I suppose.  The fourth photo is of a frozen strand of a spider's web.  I thought it was interesting, as I've never seen anything like that.  The eighth one down is a "Where's Waldo" kind of deal.  You have to try to find the bird in the photo.  Five bucks to the first person who finds it.  (Well, maybe not, but you at least get my congratulations.)

A few photos from Christmas in S.C.  The photography has unfortunately (or maybe rather fortunately, who knows....) come to a bit of a standstill lately.  Although I love many things about the state, eastern North Carolina, in the middle of the coastal plains, is not necessarily the most photographically prepossessing sight in the middle of winter.