Blogging has been something of a luxury of late.
All those fantasies of hazy days post-Trongate when I would be in 1st rather than 5th gear, because of course, being shut to the public buys ‘down-time’, enabling scribbling in our ‘creative pod’, strategic planning off the hoof, time to regroup, recuperate, recharge the batteries. Cue the goddess hooting like a drain at such foolishness.
Picture instead these snapshots: of me straining to explain the intricacies of the Single Transferable Voting system to 45 women with simultaneous Urdu and Arabic translation ‘ imagine your vote is a cake...’ (Kay and Wendy smiling with sisterly encouragement across the crowded room)… or wrestling a cassette, Chewing the Fat style from a recalcitrant videorecorder in front of the panellists in our new space packed to the brim for our Women’s Question Time event…or struggling with the demands of the Stitch and Bitches, the very ‘active citizens’ we have had the pleasure of working with of late and the incomparable, marvellously unruly Women Make History posse.
And the demands of the office…at first it must be said a relative oasis of calm compared to the old days (at least we have a door to close) suddenly riven with the sound of Big Ben chiming as each of the 60, yes 60 new learners arrive each week for their ESOL classes…
But this is a diversion. Wendy leaves today. There I’ve said it. Wendy is leaving to have her baby and we are going to be left to fend for ourselves. We are already bereft and she is still in the building, just. What a marvellous, marvelllous woman, a fantastic colleague and the very best librarian the Womens Library could ever have wished for.
Every day we will think of her, I can say this for definate because she will be my screen saver from Monday. I know, I know, it sounds sickeningly clingy but Wendy does that to people… makes you wonder how the devil you survived without her deeply positive vibe around the place. So, counselling all round here at GWL.
Best of luck dear Wendy, can’t wait to see the wee one and have you back here when the lure of a rattly old workplace, rattly old colleagues, a fridge full of old hummous and the ding dongs of Big Ben draw you inexorably back to us,
Loads of love,
Adele
