It’s a week to celebrate love and today I want to remind all of you how important it is to love your local library. I know I’m mostly preaching to the choir here, since many of you have told me over the years about how important the library is to you. But, in case you need a reminder of the good work that libraries do . . . I’m gifting this New York Times article entitles, A Love Letter to Libraries, Long Overdue.

The article speaks to my heart and the photos give me so much hope. In case you don’t feel inclined to read the whole thing, I will share the two paragraphs that I love most . . .

Imagine a teacher who’s responsible for a mixed-age classroom where students are free to wander in and out as they please, all opinions are welcome and detention is not an option. This person is also the principal, the guidance counselor, the school nurse and, occasionally, the janitor. This person is your local librarian.

Best of all, you never need a reason or an invitation to go to the library. You aren’t required to make a reservation ahead of time or purchase a cup of coffee while you’re there. You can pop in when your Wi-Fi is on the fritz or you need a break from your roommates. You might go there to dry off or to cool down. To study for algebra or to read a romance novel. To stock up on thrillers or to take stock of your less-than-thrilling life. To meet a friend or to be alone. For a bit of excitement or for a moment of calm.

In a world centered on capitalism, the library is one of the only places left where you are not expected to spend money. Many people say that the library is free. And, while that’s true on some level, it’s not really free . . . it’s funded by tax dollars. So, rather than call it free, I tend to call it pre-paid. And, since you’ve already paid for it, you may as well use it.

I don’t think it’s a surprise to anyone reading this to hear that libraries are under fire in more ways than ever before. The cost of books, just like everything else, is up. Revenues are down. And we are scrutinized for the materials we purchase and the programs we offer. It’s not easy being a librarian these days. So, next time you visit your local library, show them some love. Tell them you appreciate them. Thank them for fighting to protect democracy and access for everyone. If you’re inclined to take the extra step bring them a sweet treat or some flowers.

Show your library some love. You won’t regret it.

Happy Valentine’s Day or, as we call it around here, Happy Cream Puff Day!

I hope that whatever you do today, you find and feel love . . . in whatever form it’s best for you. Romantic love is wonderful but so is the love between friends and siblings, a parent and child, and probably most overlooked but most important of all, self love.

In a world full of heartbreaking news, overwhelming sadness, and relentless fear, I wish you love. Because, in the words of Lennon and McCartney, love is all you need.

Welcome to the newest Museum of Me exhibit . . . the one where we display and discuss how I met my husband, Dale.

So, here’s the thing . . . I sort of met him many times before we became a couple. And, in case you didn’t realize it, Dale is 14 years older than I am, and that is some context that will be useful for this post.

On the day I was born, on the front page of our city paper, there was a picture of a young man doing his paper route. That young man was Jimmy and he shared his paper route with . . . wait for it . . . Dale. This was something we realized when my mother gave me a big box of memorabilia from my childhood when I married Dale. Right on top of the box was the newspaper from the day I was born (my Nana had saved it) and Dale almost fell over when he said the picture of Jimmy. I think it’s just as well that it wasn’t Dale in the photo, that would have been entirely too weird.

As a young girl I was always aware of Dale because of his band. They played many concerts in the park, at an annual event in our city called Summerfest, and more. Their music is classic rock and oldies and it has wide appeal and my family always made the effort to see them when they played.

The first time I remember actually speaking to Dale was in January 1993. My friend Diane and I went to see the band play at a fundraiser and I won the door prize . . . a t-shirt and key chain and I think there was a mug, too. I went up to collect my winnings and, feeling giddy and maybe a little star struck to finally “meet” the guy in the band, I gushed how I had never won anything in my life. Dale says he remembers thinking how cute I was about it and that it was adorable (and maybe a little pathetic) how excited I was to win.

After that night, Diane and I went out to see the band frequently. And because we were such regulars, we became friendly with Dale and the other guys. Dale and Randy would see us in the crowd and wave and say to each other, “the librarians are here!” I actually hired the band to play at a dance when the library (by this time I was Library Director in the town where Dale [and now I] live) celebrated 100 years of service to the town. And Dale would visit the library occasionally and we would chat. In other words . . . we became friends.

And when my first marriage eventually/inevitably fell apart (a story for another time) we became . . . more than friends. It was a bit of a whirlwind, frankly, and we were engaged in a matter of months, and married in less than a year. When you know, you know, right?

We celebrated 25 years of marriage last June and I love our love story.