My daughter thinks I'm cool. I'm a special collections librarian, knitter, mom, and about a million other things. All my views are my own, as they should be.
In Oxford, as ever, vast crowds of people turned out at 6 am this May Day morning to hear the choir of Magdalen College sing songs of spring and listen to the ringing of the bells. If you don’t mind getting up early, it’s a magical experience.
Ending the week on a lovely note, by receiving a lovely note. ❤️👏
Bonus points for still calling it Twitter/tweets 👏👏
Bonus bonus points for the Just So Stories postage stamp! 👏👏👏
Hey @USPS and @USPSHelp. The signed book I bought was shoved in the mailbox, wedged, torn, and won’t come out. Was it that hard to walk two doors down and drop off the package?
Today is #NationalAuthorsDay so we've taken all the stuff we've got that's been written by authors and put them all on shelves for people to borrow for FREE.
If it goes well, we might just make it a thing.
in the coming year we’re resisting the temptation to tone down what makes us unique for the sake of impressing others. we’re embracing our cringe. we’re leaning into our nerdery. we’re shucking the people who can’t accept us and forging friendship with like-minded weirdos
🧵 It’s nearly Hallowe’en and I’m thinking about the time Charles Dickens pranked a local carpenter by asking him to open a cupboard that had been jammed shut. The carpenter opened the cupboard and two skeletons sprang out, scaring the poor man half to death.
Men, start giving your partners more inventive compliments. “You have the sort of face that a Victorian novelist would describe as amiable.” “You could play Tony Blair’s wife in a movie starring Timothee Chalamet.” Try it!
I hope this weekend you can resist the terrible compulsion to be *productive.* I hope you find time to read and dance and create for their own sakes and not for any profit. I hope you have moments of being just overcome with joy by the weirdness and wonder of being.
CONSERVATIVES: Back in our day literature was MORAL and DECENT
CHAUCER: Alison’s husband farts thunderously in Nicholas’ face when he bangs at the window wanting a smooch