For a while, at least.

Yes, next week we will move an hour from the morning to the evening.

And I was just getting used to not having to put my headlights on for the drive in!

This means, of course, that I'll have to keep a specially careful eye out for kids waiting for school buses in the morning.

What a day at work! I got there just about 7 AM and had hardly put my stuff down when I saw a guy at the library door. He was a painter. Whatever. I let him in, of course, and unlocked the door from the inside so he could go in and out at will.

A few minutes later the archivist arrived--to tell me about the painter who was already there. She went back to talk to him and then left for a bit.

During the morning lots and lots of pictures went on display--paintings related to Acadiana. I recognized the artist's name from a collection I processed just a bit ago. The library is now covered with oil paintings done in a somewhat primitive style.

About 10 AM I decided I needed a cup of coffee, so I got my cup and trudged upstairs. I saw the librarian in the work room with about a bazillion young women. I got my hot water and headed back downstairs. Just as I was starting, the archivist came by, also headed downstairs, and took the cup of hot water down for me. That was much appreciated.

Not much later the librarian returned accompanied by the swarm of young women I'd seen upstairs. I'm not sure just what they were doing, but they spent the rest of the morning doing it.

I found out later they were from one of the top private high schools. Well, that's one way to sow the seeds that might lead to Newcomb when they go on to college.

The afternoon was much quieter.

And my drive home was uneventful. No traffic tie-ups, no idiot-snails, and no line at Popeye's when I got my supper.

That last action came in very handy, because I got to the drawbridge just after the gates went down for its opening. I ate the biscuit and the tip of the wing while I waited.

And now the weekend is ahead. I MUST plant those treelets and do other gardening jobs.

And read some more about Eve Dallas. I'm not far enough into the book for one of the "scenes" when she and her "housemate" go at it, but there is sure to be at least one before she solves the crime.

And remember to change my key clocks Saturday night. My car clock will once again reveal the true time--it's such a pain to turn back that I leave it on DST year round.