Dusty's books

 Dusty was set to work tidying the library. But mostly she set about chasing lizards that were hiding in the corners and pouncing on them. 

Oh no, thought Whaea Selina. This is what you get when you have cats in the library. I shall have to employ someone else. 

She called up her database and looked at her WILs Workers In Libraries. These were the children who had nothing much to do at lunchtime except be bopped by flying balls. This got a bit old after a while. They didn't ask for much pay, perhaps just a smiley stamp on the hand. 

Whaea Selina had removed the working computer and reconfigured the dashboards until there was only ONE button to press - return or issue. It couldn't fail and made a satisfying beep when a book was issued. 

This was to stop gamers from infiltrating the library and taking up all the bandwidth data, and throwing all the books out the window. The last time she had a machine check in the books, it cost so much in power and electricity and lost time with all the whirring noises it made that she ended up unplugging it along with the TV and the ipad and the telephone too and taking them on a long trip to the e-waste collection where the equipment got turned into TikTok machines. They had to now consider the nationwide ban of 'smartphones' in schools.  But would children still come to the library when there was only one button to push and couldn't text their friends? 

 At least cats had zero interest in computers apart from sleeping on top of them. 

Dusty, what do you think of this noob? Dusty looked up. 

The book was about Minecraft and it had so much squares in it that it made Whaea Selina's eyes swim. Dusty swished her tail no. 

Or this one? My Baby Kitten Book.

Yes. Dusty swished her tail again. 

Hmm I may put you in Collection Development instead of Circulation. Dusty purred. She was in charge of the library kitty too and there was now an undisclosed amount to be spent on new books. 

Dusty

 The shelves needed dusting. There was nothing quite for it but to rearrange them into some sort of order, after the spines had faded and the paper had yellowed, like expired cans at the back of the pantry cupboard. Who knew what toxic brew or marvellous medicine awaited in those perishable mystery containers.

Whaea Selina assessed the library. Definitely needed some carnivorous plants to eat all the flies that weren't being caught by the cobwebs. Everything is so last century but those computers and devices are shiny new black things with push buttons don't even work!   How will I ever cope? She wandered about in a daze. 

I'm sorry, we can't pay you, said the powers that be. 

Oh, she replied. I'll just do what I can. 

This involved some rearrangement of the furniture. This was hotly contested territory. I need someone to be here all the time. I know I'll call Mr Muggs.

Mr Muggs was not available, but he sent a look-a-like cat rescued from the SPCA  Whaea Selina called Dusty. She was black and white and had a very long tail, which was very furry and could also double as a bookmark. 

Dusty was to be the new library assistant. 

Monkeys on computers

 At Creek Valley School, the blue monkeys had overtaken the library. They climbed the shelves and typed Shakespeare essays on the computers. Miss Selina had tried to ban computers from the library after they were handing in book reviews on behalf of the students as the previous librarian hadn't taken the monkeys with her. She was suspicious whenever a perfectly typed book review was handed in and preferred handwritten ones complete with spelling mistakes, for she knew that that likely hadn't been a cut and paste Chat GPT copy job. 

Mrs Hardback, the Headmistress however was all for technology for she had bought the computers for the school years ago and wanted everyone to use them, eventually rendering all pens and pencils and paperbacks obsolete. She didn't forsee the time when the library would become a video game parlour. 

Miss Selina voiced her concerns but Mrs Hardback had lots of money invested in this new technology, and nothing left for books, so when it came time for budget cuts to be made she took her scissors and cut Miss Selina's name out of the school newsletter.

We already have a Mrs Chan so, we don't need two of them, it will only confuse everyone, declared Mrs Hardback, who ruled the school without question. Then she readvertised Miss Selina's job, but there were no takers, so she poached a librarian from the other school who was under the impression that the Creek Valley school library had more books than the one she was already in, where in reality it was just a dark, windowless room full of sleeping computers. And monkeys. 

Traffic on Lincoln Road

 Pablo and Mr Muggs met up at La Porchetta. Mr Muggs really wanted to cross the road, but he was a bit chicken. He wanted to get to the other side to the Bird Barn. Whaea Selina used to go to Pomaria School, I know because I saw her school photo in the 'Find Whaea Selina' book. And that's just down the road from the Bird Barn. 

Mr Muggs was thinking of the tasty birds. Pablo's mouth was full of cheese. He was wary though and warned Mr Muggs about crossing the road there were way too many cars and a cat pancake was a real possibility. There was a long line of late model SUVs snaking along to Waipareira Avenue, and trucks hearing toward the supermarkets, and buses, and Toyotas, Suzukis, Hondas, Subarus, Daihatsus, Mitsubishis, queuing toward the five petrol stations and drive through takeaways. 

If only we had wings and could fly. 

I thought it was the 21st century and we would have flying cars by now. 

Lincoln Road stretched toward the horizon of the Waitakere Ranges. It could be cleared of all traffic, and turned into a runway, and all the airplanes could land and park near the Hangar Bar, or Sunderland School,  and we could send out a search helicopter to locate Whaea Selina again. 

The birds at the Bird Barn might agree to this plan, if they had not thought of this first. They knew something the cat and the mouse didn't. 

Goodhome

 Pablo paused in his tracks. This was most unusual. For the past four years, Whaea Selina had been turning up at Hells Pizza every Thursday at Lunchtime to deliver pizza to Ranui children, and it was only by their reading efforts that Whaea Selina had been able to survive because Lord knows that she couldn't subsist on the cold chicken and carrots school lunches. By extension Pablo had been eating whatever had been left over if it hadn't been snatched up by scabbers.

He thought she might have continued on, but the Creek Valley children were too well fed to need Hells Pizza, or maybe, they preferred the fancier Sal's Pizza? It had special sauce flown in especially from New York. But there was no sign of a reading deal on their door. 

Pablo turned to go and crossed to the Goodhome Gastropub. He smelled a faint whiff of cheese, and there was a sign outside their door. It read Quiz Nite Wednesdays. And inside, he noticed there were...books! They lined the shelves above the tables and near the pokie machines too. This was a definitely a pub Whaea Selina would patronise. 

Pablo was in luck, it was Wednesday. He just had to wait around past Happy Hour and see if Whaea Selina was at the Quiz Nite. Surely she would be there, they always needed her to answer random quiz questions. He recalled the last Kahoot quiz she held there was a question that most smart children got right and only the non-readers could fail.

Why must we be quiet in the library?

a) There's a baby in there and it's sleeping

b) If its noisy Whaea Selina gets a headache

c) So we can read our books in peace

d) So we don't have to call noise control and pay a huge fine

On the trail

 Mr Muggs tuned left and Pablo turned right. They had decided to split up and then meet up in the middle at La Porchetta if neither had not found Miss Selina by then. La Porchetta had cheese, and it also had fancy feast Italian food. 

Mr Muggs was a bit reluctant to leave Creek Valley School though, because it was rumoured to have good butter chicken at the school cafe. But he knew that even if it had, Whaea Tilot would likely not approve as only she made authentic butter chicken. She got the children to grind the spices especially in the mornings, she never took shortcuts. However Mr Muggs knew even butter chicken would not keep Miss Selina at a school. Something had happened that had made her leave. Perhaps she was offered better food at Mr Lobster. And the closest school there was West Auckland Middle School. 

Mr Muggs made his way down Central Park Drive. He passed the Chipmunks Playground and cafe (but no library). No S. He passed the Kings Plant Barn, which looked like an MLE. No S either, but maybe it was just not a planting day. Learning Network hadn't seen her recently either, though one lady said yes she was here once enquiring about books. Mr Muggs noticed that 'Teaching to the North East' was on sale. He thought TT should have bought the teachers 'Teach like a Pirate' instead.  It had a better looking cover.  There was a long stretch of shops and businesses before he got to Mr Lobster. The only thing, when he looked in all the female customers sort of looked like S with black hair and pale skin and he couldn't tell which one was her. 

Meanwhile Pablo was making enquiries at Hell's Pizza. No sorry we haven't had any orders all year from any schools. Not even Ranui. The children must have given up on reading books! Pablo was aghast. Had they lost their appetites?  Now what was he going to do? 

Better Work Stories - Fashion designer

 One of my fellow  teachers was looking at my job situation. Of course nobody now has money to pay a librarian, and so she looked at my hands like she was a gypsy fortuneteller and told me that I was to be a fashion designer. 

I nearly fell out of my chair. 

There is no way I could be a fashion designer. I don't even have a sewing machine. And I didn't feel like I could really draw what clothes people could wear only to have them made in a sweat shop in Bangladesh, Vietnam or China where all clothes are manufactured these days, as they sure are not made here. 

I have lived long enough into the 21st century to know that every decade in the past has reached the nadir of fashion and now anyone can now just wear anything they like. It's only in certain places, like schools and working in retail that you have to wear ugly uniforms. 

So if you wanted to wear a meat dress or all your soft toys like Lady Gaga, you now can, and nobody would bat an eye, and even wearing your underwear on the outside is acceptable. Girls can wear pants and boys can wear skirts and everyone can wear a pink t-shirt. I remember years ago we had this 'Trash to Fashion' parade at the Trust Stadium, where everyone literally wore rubbish. What creative things you can do with black plastic bin bags knows no bounds. 

On mufti day at school everyone was wearing either track pants and sweat shirts, or, if they were children, their onesies and unicorn horns/Disney princess dresses, or superhero costumes. It was like Armageddon Comic Con Cosplay meets Book Week. If it was not mufti day, everyone would be wearing blazers and ties and looking like they went to Hogwart's School of Withcraft and Wizardry, or if doing sports, like the All Blacks team with advertising branding prominently displayed, and in mourning because black is the new black. Or something.

My preference is actually bathrobe and/or toga/wrap/pareu/sarong/lavalava, because you can just tie that around your body without having to sew anything. Security blankets are the new hoodie. 

But who am I to dictate what anyone else wears? I think it's only because I am harbouring a secret desire to have everyone dress in stripes for the largest Where's Wally Day ever, and get into the Guinness Book of World Records, but of course that's just crazy talk again and not going to happen as long as we have people that take their day jobs seriously. Everyday cannot be a party. We are in an election year as well, so all the political parties are parading around in the respective colours/gang patches and people are wary of showing their affiliations. So if I became a fashion designer, I might only add to the confusion. 

Last few years have become a bit of a masquerade though but I've just stuck with the surgical blue masks and scrubs look because its the fashion to look like a zombie who just got out of a hospital bed, with bed hair and bandages. It's fun to dress up I suppose, but to make a living out of it I am not sure. It just might be creating more work for the people that have to do the laundry (me). 

Well, it was either that or work at SpecSavers like another teacher suggested.