The three pieces of cheese that I chose for my Christmas present finally arrived, after almost two weeks in the mail. They seemed to be ok. They were ripe and sharp in taste, I tried one on top of pizza and it turned out great.
This week has been busy at work. More busy than I thought. It turned out that the stacks staff had to do also other people's jobs. We do not ever shelve the books in the open collection, other people are supposed to. It's the same thing every year. The desk in the open collection is closed during the holidays. This means that the staff doesn't shelve there either, even though several of them are working. To me, this behavior is not acceptable. If the staff in my department would lack in responsibility to that extent, I would be really upset. There are few things more important than having the open collection in order. Wednesday there were about ten carts with books not shelved. The situation in the stacks was under control, mainly because I had sorted five-six carts every day and actively tried to keep up. It wasn't a surprise that we would get a lot of returns this week. It's like this every year, but somehow the open collection staff seems to forget it. Or doesn't care.
The project of reading the almanac entries written by my great great aunt Olga continues. It is incredibly interesting. I have come to the 1970s now. The first time I visited Olga and her nieces (four unmarried women shared a house) was apparently in 1972. I was two years old then, and was there with my parents and grandmother. It even said what they had served us; open faced sandwiches, cake and coffee.