Surrounded by Books

It was a lovely autumnal Thursday afternoon last week, and I found myself sitting in my local library. I had never been to that particular library before and I wasn’t really expecting much, but I have to admit I was quite impressed. It was modern, welcoming, and had plenty of books and computers. There was a ‘Knit and Natter’ event being held in one corner, which looked well attended by the local old ladies and was genuinely quite sweet to see, and there was some sort of kiddies group in another room, which also appeared quite well attended, but quite noisy too.

I have plenty of books at home, and there isn’t much I can’t do on my MacBook (see what I did there? I subtly let you know I had a MacBook), so I didn’t really need to be at the library. This begs the question: why was I there? Well, despite having all the amenities I need at home, I find it hard to focus on things, precisely because of those amenities. When I want to read, I am distracted by the thought of going on my PS5, watching some television, scrolling my phone, or annoying my Mother whilst she tries to work. I also have a weird thing, which I have always had, where I don’t really enjoy spending time in my own room, which further complicates my efforts to relax and get stuck into what I want to do. Finally, there is also the logic that if I am surrounded by nothing but books, I might be more likely to want to read and write.

Ultimately, it was just nice to have a change of scenery, and I will definitely be heading back to the library soon. I managed to get some writing done, play some Chess online and read a few chapters of my book, which made me feel incredibly productive. I even eyed up a few books that I was planning to buy but will now borrow from the library instead, including one that I’ve had my eye on for a while. Is… is this what financial responsibility feels like? God, it’s horrible. 

Bar Banter: Iconic or Problematic?

On Friday evening I helped Mother run her bar at the Heritage Wood Illuminated Walk in Ashbourne. Those of you well acquainted with Babs will know the story of how she bought herself a horsebox in lockdown and converted it into a bar, but as time has gone by she’s had less time to spare for that kind of thing, so this is now the only event she does all year. It’s a lovely event and always well attended, and I genuinely enjoy helping out behind the bar, as you get to meet such a wide variety of different people. Admittedly, some of them are gut-wrenchingly dull, but a lot of them are friendly and even sometimes interesting, and it makes me smile being outdoors and doing something a bit different. 

This year we are next to a coffee stall, and my favourite comment from one of our customers on Friday came from a woman who shouted across to her husband “are you having a pint with me, or are you having a coffee with those puffs?”. I believe the puffs she was referring to were her adult children, and I honestly can’t decide if it’s iconic or just homophobic – maybe both?

The Night I Became a Podcaster

On Saturday evening I went out for drinks with my oldest and dearest friend, Samuel Morris. Almost inevitably, what was supposed to be a few quiet pints in the Cross Keys ended up with me falling asleep at 4.30am on his girlfriend’s sofa. There are many highlights from the evening that I could run through, including taking over the karaoke at a random family party in The Shoulder of Mutton (what a fucking great name for a pub, by the way), but my favourite one was when we popped in to say hello to Nic, Sam’s Mum, at the Leopard. 

At one point I nipped to the loo and a middle aged chap came in after me, stood next to me at the urinals and, without even saying hello, asked “are you still doing your podcasts then?”. I said that I wasn’t because I didn’t have time anymore, despite the fact I’ve never made a podcast in my life, and left the toilets as soon as I could, having absolutely no idea who he was. Anyway, it turns out he is a friend of Nic, who I’d met at her 60th birthday party earlier this year, and apparently I’d told him about my blogs and he still reads them from time to time. Blogs, podcasts, there’s not much difference I suppose. Either way, it’s nice to know someone’s reading, even if I have no idea who they are.

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