So I got into work nice and early this week with lots of plans in my head, only to find the Professor tucked neatly into a (newly re-upholstered) armchair, reading the day's papers. Said professor - delightful fellow though he was, insisted on detaining me to discuss the latest developments in engineering and academic publishing, which I decided almost counted as work, so I passed a pleasant half-hour with him before going about my business.
This included writing a digitization strategy for the benefit of the chaps over in the Indies and writing an essay on the activities of a certain Captain Burgess who wrote over 100 letters of complaint to the CO here back in 1873. Needless to say, he was eventually removed from his post, but not before a great debate was had on whether having a cigar in one's mouth was proof that one was actually smoking (a dispute that foreshadowed a legal argument involving a certain President Clinton and his friend Monica Lewinsky by some a century or so I believe).
Progress was further slowed this week by the activities of my old nemesis: the Catering Corps, who strategically placed a Cash Bar just outside my luxury office suite (aka the Broom Cupboard) preventing my egress into the main body of my library. I contemplated a raid on said bar, but was dissuaded from doing so by the presence of Russell the Barman, a man whose charms I was completely disarmed by and who I do not want to treat as an enemy in case I ever need a sneaky G&T.
By the way: I suspect the enemy of trying to infiltrate the Library Committee, as a new member has appeared whose former career as a German U-boat commander has put some of the old chaps on their guard. Not me though: forgive and forget I say - we're all friends now (except the Catering Corps of course).
Toodle pip
So it's been a triumphant week in the Barracks. I finally managed to evacuate the whole Platoon of Ancient Ledgers from their unsatisfactory accommodation at the back of my Luxury Office Suite (aka the Broom-cupboard which may - or may not - be shortly transformed into a disabled toilet). This feat was achieved mainly thanks to a Kosovo-Albanian regiment - aka - The Maintenance Team who moaned constantly, despite my attempts to distract them with the music of a popular brass band from their homeland:
fanfara tirana v transglobal underground
Anyway, the old boys look very happy in their new home and the Luxury Office Suite was temporarily uncluttered. It felt like the Liberation of Paris - give or take a few French people - and I am finally able to breathe the fresh air of...mouse droppings and carpet moth residue. No matter that it's a poky office - it's my office to fill with whatever regiments I choose in my Grand Design of making the Library look....well - more like a Library really.
Meanwhile my quest to make sense of the archive continues and while some members looked more than a little frayed at the edges, most are happy to be filed away, and gave their Name Rank and Serial Number without any need for interrogation or subterfuge. The only notable exception was a splendid series of photograph albums from a mysterious character who does not appear on any of the Membership Records. I may have to call my friends at MI5 to assist on this one.
Back in the Indies, Maj Gordon Gin-soaked of the eponymous Highland Regiment reappeared after a few weeks break, exuding a faint whiff of battlefield action. He was, it turns out, so delighted with my Cricket-related display of Books and other Artefacts, that he had to take a few weeks of to drink Gin and declare war on a small battalion of ants who had invaded his bathroom (hence the battlefield whiff).
Next week I shall continue my efforts to liberate legions of oppressed ledgers from bondage (though, bearing in mind the fact that they are mainly comprised of elderly English Gents, that may not be wise, or even desirable)
Until next time....
