Yesterday was my what I call 'biblio day'.
We are three female volunteers guided by Goldie Locks, our librarian.
Since the library is closed to the public when our gang is at work, I was surprised to see a nun standing at the counter talking with Goldie Locks. No idea who heard the knock on the glass of the door and who was allowed to let her in and less of an idea as to the content of the conversation that I observed since I can't find any time to get my hearing checked. I am only 7 steps away from the counter and and all else that is happening around me is also very close it being a small library but, when I work I usually concentrate on what I am doing and it being the monk's job that was assigned to me, I was minding my business, did not notice that the nun was gone nor ask why she had come in. Then, as the lawn mover started his usual Thursday-moan, and as I lifted the blinds away from the window to sneak a look outside to see how far lawn manicure had advanced it is this that came into my view and made me grab my camera.
A ray of sunshine that will last me till next biblio day.
picture taken through window in front door
Nuns bring good memories back to me.
8 comments:
I'm glad for all your good memories.
I've only ever known an ex-nun. She was my English teacher long after she'd given up the habit. I'd be interested in knowing some of those good memories you hold in your heart regarding huns (oops, typo) nuns. Or maybe you knew some nuns with a hun background?
Love the way she's got the headphones over her wimple! (It's probably not really the wimple but I just like the word).
Rouchswalwe!
I only knew two nuns closer than a few others. Maybe I'll post a few words about them some day.
Lucy!
Yes, nice new word learned. Une
guimpe in French when I thought it was voile.
During a very short period of my adolescent life I would have prefered to adorn my face with a wimple instead of a pimple.
I found myself wondering. Just suppose I introduced some line breaks and capital letters. Had to try it:
Since the library is closed
To the public
When our gang is at work,
I was surprised
To see
A nun
Standing at the counter
Talking with Goldie Locks.
No idea who heard
The knock on the glass of the door
And who was allowed
To let
Her in
And less of an idea
As to the content
Of the conversation that I observed.
I keep on making these brilliant appraisals and even more brilliant comments about the nature of your prose and all I get is stone silence. Here's a demo. What more do I have to do to convince you about your inner spark? To squeeze out a single syllable of acknowledgement?
RR!
THANK YOU!!
Stone silence to cover up how moved I am. Your comments feel like a dream, thoughts of doubt and surprise that your words could be sincere and not just a way of 'kidding me'.
Well done Roderick. You see Ellena! No more apologies.
Hurrah! I second Halle's thoughts!
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