New Year’s Resolutions? Exercise your little grey cells at Bexley’s Libraries, “the gymnasiums of the mind” - (Leotards not required…)

New Year’s Resolutions?

Exercise your little grey cells at Bexley’s Libraries,

“the gymnasiums of the mind” - (Leotards not required…)

New Year’s resolutions?...
Diet?
Keep fit?
‘Pumping Iron’?
Whatever you choose, Bexley Libraries have books to get you started…
But above all, dear readers, exercise your little grey cells ~ Libraries have been described as “gymnasiums for the mind”, and – unlike other gyms - they’re free, you won’t get too sweaty, and not many staff wear leotards!

Look, I’ve been doing some research:
* “People who read for fun are usually better at it…”
* “All official studies show that the early years involve the highest rates of learning, and the reading habits formed at a young age will stay with them for a lifetime…”
* “Everyone knows that reading expands your horizons, and book clubs help to do this at an even greater level…”
* “A huge advantage of fiction is that when reading it you can train your imagination…”
I could go on, but you don’t want to hear too much, do you? You want to read, don’t you? Go on, now’s your chance; you know it makes sense!...

So, dear Blog followers, make yourself some New Year’s Resolutions; follow our simple, three point plan –
1) Keep your brain in trim…
2) Go to your nearest Bexley library…
3) READ MORE!...

And don’t forget to suggest other stimulating book ideas to other readers; fiction, self-help, brainteasers, Captain Underpants, Jeffrey Archer, anything!…Just post them in the comments box below, and revel in the Bexley book-based cerebral maelstrom you’ve just become part of…
(As for me, I`m going to be an exception to that rule, pop on my library leotard, and get back to my blog).

Enjoy your reading & Happy New Year!

TTFN

“On the first day of Christmas"

“On the first day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me”…

Neither Scrooge nor Humbug here, the Blogbrary would like to offer you, dear Yuletide readers, a very special gift; a Christmas ‘catablog’ of fine things to read, to the tune of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’
(Hum along with it, if you like…I am!…)

On the first day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
A partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the second day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the third day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the fourth day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the fifth day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Five Gold Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the sixth day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Six Geese a Laying
Five Gold Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the seventh day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Gold Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the eighth day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Gold Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the ninth day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Gold Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the tenth day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Gold Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Gold Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…
~

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
The Blogbrary gave to me…
Twelve Drummers Drumming
Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Gold Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree…


But, if you’ve got any better suggestions (within reason) for what to include in our Christmas ditty, do let us know – just use the comments box below.
So, all that remains is to wish you all very happy, peaceful and merry Christmas from the Blogbrarian and his team of trusty elves…

Ho ho ho, and TTFN

The worst journey in the world...

The worst journey in the world?...

As our region is gripped by winter, we discover

`The Worst Journey in the World`…

Was it:
a) The 17.19 from Charing Cross?
b) The A226 into Dartford?
Or
C) The Ross Ice-Shelf, Antarctica, Winter 1911…70 degrees below, and your tent blows away…

It’s a great read.
Try it…
Or these…
Or this…

Well, can’t stop ~ my team of Siberian Library huskies are straining at the leash – mush!

TTFN

Ashes anxiety?...Take the fantasy cricket remedy...

Ashes anxiety?...
A bit of bother “Down Under?”…
Constantly fantasising about cricket?...
Then here’s Doctor Grace’s casebook…

Are you like me?
Troubled by events ‘Down Under’?...
Worried about the old ‘Bodyline’?...



Tense?
Nervous?
Headache?...

Can’t sleep?
Regularly need to get up in the middle of the night to listen to Test Match Special?...
Then Doctor Blogbrary has a remedy; he has consulted with his old pal Dr. Grace and he recommends a good dose of Ashes cricket books to ease your pain…
Specifically, try a little tincture of Harold Larwood, or a beef broth of Botham....if that doesn’t work, just glug down some Fiery Fred. Once you’re on the mend, you could even treat yourself to a little fatty batter?...
Just to stick to good, plain English fare…

What can those Aussie flying doctors offer in return? Priscilla the Queen of the Desert? Pah!

If you still can’t sleep, though, do as I do and draw up your own imaginary Ashes ‘dream team’ (in batting order, naturally)

“ENGLAND’S FINEST” –MY HEROES XI
Dame Judi Dench
Geoffrey “Boycott” Chaucer
Mr Len Goodman
Queen Boudicca
Sergeant Wilson (Captain)
Georgina, Duchess of Devonshire
JRR Tolkien
Mr Alan Knott (wk)
Phillip (“Wayne”) Larkin
Delia (“MJK”) Smith
“Field Marshal” Monty Panesar

“ANTIPODEAN STROLLERS” ~ AN AUSSIE XI
Jason
Kylie
“Alligator” Irwin
Mr R Harris
Mr N Kelly
Mr C James (wk)
Mr C R Horwood (retired hurt)
Ms Dannii Minogue (Captain)
“Dame” Edna"
Mr Blue Kangaroo
Mr P Andre

Well, dear reader, although I am constrained by the strict limits of impartiality & confidentiality , I think I know who I favour..."For England, Kent County Cricket Club, Freddie, and Saint George”…Let battle commence!

And, if all else fails, and we’re facing a particularly ‘sticky wicket’, then just click HERE

As ever, your comments, cricket-themed remedies, or team selections are always welcome, via the comments box down under.

TTFN

Gilda O'Neill - Lives remembered...

GILDA O’NEILL – LIVES REMEMBERED…

We were very sorry to hear recently about the death of the author Gilda O’Neill. Gilda was only 59, and an enthusiastic advocate for public libraries and the work we do; in return, library users loved her books, and recognised an authentic storyteller and pioneer of oral history.

Nowadays, there are loads of books recording ‘lost voices’ of working people, but it was Gilda who set the standard for recording voices from the East End…"Real history for real people”…

Her roots were proper East End – a grandfather was a tug skipper on the Thames, a great uncle had been a minder at a Limehouse gambling den, and her mother ran a pie and mash shop.
Well, Londoners aren’t known for their reserve or lack of cockney chat, but – back then – many people were still reluctant to spill the beans, to tell their own life stories to strangers or outsiders – so Gilda could relate to them as “one of their own”. She knew that everyone had a story to tell – and what stories!
She recalled one particular anecdote from her father…once passing the little terraced house where he grew up in the 1920s she expressed amazement that all his extended family could have squeezed into it, especially when Aunt Mog came home from the workhouse at weekends…That’s not the half of it, her father replied, “we had the Harrises living upstairs!”…

Hop pickers, street life, changing communities, larger than life characters – these were the themes that dominated her books, but Gilda was a versatile writer, too – she could turn her hand to history as well as fiction (she wrote both East End sagas and crime novels). She was passionate about writing, too, urging everyone to try it, to tell a story, and record their own family life histories.
Her stories reflect an age of change, of transition and uncertainty…she wrote: "People are often mourning when they tell their stories, mourning the loss of a way of life in which they were part of a community that had grown organically over the generations… Unlike the planners and architects who moved them around as if they were pawns in a chess game, they understand that communities are not created by ordering removal vans simply to transplant people from one location to another – not if they are to have a cohesiveness that makes sense to those who live within them."

Gilda O’Neill ~ 1951-2010

ROGUE MALE WANTED...

Seeking Adventure?...Bexley Librarian seeks Rogue Male for thrills, adventure, and maybe more…

No, no, dear reader…it’s not what you think!

Let me begin at the very beginning (”a very good place to start” as Julie Andrews once so wisely said); not long ago, someone asked me to recommend a really good old-fashioned thriller. Naturally, my thoughts spun immediately to – in my humble opinion – the greatest adventure yarn ever written…
“Rogue Male!” I enthusiastically bellowed (much to the consternation of the assembled multitudes in the library…one or two even looked up, expectantly…)

Now, I`m going to let you into another little secret – not only is this THE classic British thriller of the `stiff upper lip` era, it’s now become something of a rarity in our libraries…Imagine my unconfined joy, therefore, when we discovered that Bexley Libraries still held one precious copy, stored in its sturdy ancient vaults…
Much as Howard Carter must have felt when unearthing the tomb of Tutankhamen - “I can see wonderful things” – upon rediscovering this long forgotten classic tome for myself I was instantly transported back to an age of tweed suits, pipe smoke, damp Labradors and leather arm patches. Splendid stuff! They don’t write `em like this any more….

And, should this type of yarn strike a chord with you, dear readers, then how about some of the following `old school` authors?...
–Thrill! at the high jinx of Erskine Childers…
–Gasp! at the audacity of John Dickson Carr…
–Tremble! At the cut`n`thrust of John Buchan…
–Swoon! at the square jawed Sapper…

And, while we’re at it, why not hunt down books by Dorothy L Sayers or Margery Allingham? (Has it ever struck you how few authors are called `Dorothy` or `Margery` these days?...Not enough, I dare say).

Anyway, must dash – I’ve a Rogue Male to track down, unless you beat me to it…

Meanwhile, if you can suggest any other books of a similar ilk, please do let us know…Use the comments box below.

TTFN

Bloggers Marr Pepys Show?...

Bloggers Marr Pepys Show?…

Silly Bloggers V diligent diarists…

Andrew Marr has been in the news in the past few weeks – to start with, something of his has fallen off the back of a lorry: fifteen tonnes worth of his new book, The Making of Modern Britain, apparently, on the A4 near Reading. (Luckily, Bexley readers can still obtain copies, unsoiled by tyre marks or diesel oil…)
Secondly, the BBC political presenter and handsomely-lobed author has recently let rip at ‘Silly Bloggers’:
“Bloggers” he says “seem to be socially inadequate, pimpled, single, slightly seedy, bald, cauliflower-nosed young men sitting in their mother’s basements and ranting”…
(None of which terms, obviously, apply to your noble,unblemished and virtuous Blogbrarian…ahem)
Mr Marr continues: “This so-called citizen journalism is the spewing and ranting of very drunk people late at night…most of their blogging is too angry and too abusive…terrible things are said online, things that they wouldn’t dare say in person…”
Again, here I would stress that the Blogbrarian would never say anything terrible, is sober, measured & pure in thought and deed, and always tucked up in bed by 9.30 with a nice mug of cocoa…

However, Mr Marr’s comments did set me thinking…
What if our great diarists of the past had blogged rather than penned?
Downloaded rather than jotted?
Been at the Facebook rather than the bookface?
Would it have made a difference?...

Consider Jeffrey Archer’s prison blog?
What of The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady blogger?...
Or the secret blog of Adrian Mole?...but now we’re back to spotty youths again!
A far cry indeed from Dr Johnson's dictionary of modern life : survey, definition & justify'd lampoonery of divers contemporary phenomena, from Top Gear unto Twitter…

Which only leaves the nation’s most famous diarist, the quill-meister, the Big Daddy of the diary, the one & only Mr Samuel Pepys…Just imagine what he could have done with a Blackberry! Or perhaps not, as it transpires that he was, in fact, something a rogue, a rotter, and a dirty dog! (Read his diaries or his life story to find out the real truth)…A bounder in Bermondsey, a debtor in Deptford, a rotter in Rotherhithe, a groper in Greenwich – thank goodness he never got as far as Sidcup!

We all like a good nose into other peoples’ business though, and diaries do make great reading; we’ve got plenty in Bexley, in fact or fiction. Take a peek.
And, if you still want to be a blogger, we’ve got books to teach you how to do that, too. Try not to rant, though…or be grumpy.


So, dear readers, if you can recommend any diaries to delve into, please let us know…don’t keep ‘em a secret, add them to the ‘comments’ box below.

As for me, well it’s nearly 9.20….must finish, ready for cocoa, then - & as Mr Pepys so famously scribbled – “And so to bed”

TTFN