Archive in a Pandemic A-Z: C is for

CLEANING

Every day we are open we are cleaning especially for you, dear public. Before and after each booking, we clean the table and the chair (hence the plastic chairs) and the laminated table label. 

Here is one of our table labels (it's really a sign, but table label is more pleasing to say): 

If it is red-side up, then we know that the table needs cleaned. 

We also have a sign on our public pc.

If it is red-side up we know to clean the keyboard after each use. 

We also have a signs on our Microfilm Readers 

You know the drill now...

When a surface or machine is ready to be cleaned, our desk staff press a button...

...and our small band of backroom staff are ready to spring into action at the sound of the trumpet (no boring doorbell sound for us), on the way donning disposable gloves, picking up blue paper-towels and either soapy water or anti-viral spray depending on what they need to clean. 

Soapy water is for anywhere we are likely to handle archives as it is more gentle. 

At the end of morning bookings we also clean all the touch points along the corridor which our dear public may have touched, such as door handles, the lift buttons, light switches and bannisters. 

At the end of the day our wonderful cleaning staff come in and clean all surfaces and touch points again. 

We are pleased to say that it is going smoothly and there has been no need to put up this sign yet...

See previous blog here

Doodle-OO!

This article in the Guardian reminded me of this post from 2012.


I have just about recovered from the shock of discovering James and Bari's alarming depictions (what ARE they of???)  and my therapist thinks I'm about ready to look at the doodle again... here goes...



SC11/50/10

AAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Let's Get Trollied On Lollies...

After so many months of hideous weather, it feels somewhat wrong to complain about the heat this week. Wrong. And yet also so right.... UUUURRRGGGHHH, it's stuffy!

There was a stash of ice-lollies in the freezer but some wily library staff got there first and ATE THEM ALL.

No matter, we'll just look at these cool, snowy pictures of Canada taken by Orcadians working for the Hudson's Bay Company to cool down instead:

J. W. Sinclair, lunch hour at Kingnait, Baffinland.

J.W. Sinclair, Baffin island or Herschel island.

Royal Canadian mounted policedogs, Aklavik, Invuit Region, North Western Territories. Taken by Canadian working in Canada.

Also, it has been a while since we all had a friday afternoon boogy. Pop down your pens and enjoy the archives unofficial theme tune for the Summer. We like to sing

 'We're in this job to get dusty, we're in this job to get dusty,

We're in this job to get dusty, we're in this job to get dusty'

Until the customers scream at us to shut up.

Touché, Touché, Away!

We are not too strict in the Orkney Archive. We tolerate chatter as long as it does not drown out our own gossipping; turn deaf ears to the mobile phones of visibly embarrassed readers and we have even been known to allow people to keep their bags by their side if they dance for us a little.

But. No drinks, no pens, no unauthorised photos and no culottes. We don't like them.

Today is the birthday of the fab Mandy Patinkin who played the greatest alcoholic, sword-slashing Spaniard of all time: Inigo Montoya. In honour of this day, if patrons break any of our rules this week then they shall feel the sharp tap of steel upon one shoulder. When they turn around, they shall be greeted by the sight of a member of the archive staff wielding a glinting sword and wearing a leather jerkin and velvet pantaloons. They shall then hear these chilling words:

"My name is archivist,

You spill your juice/write on vellum/take sneaky photo/look unbecoming

Prepare to die."

If said customer has neglected to bring their sword then they shall be provided with one and then they shall fight us to the death. Or to the pain.

Deface This!

I froze, my archivist's standard-issue 2B pencil quivering in my hand, my eyebrows arched with both surprise and shock. A horrified gasp was swiftly followed by a shrieked word:  "Defacemeeeeent!!!!!!!!!!" which echoed around the archive searchroom.

"Who did this?!" I cried, leaping to my feet, "Who DID this!?", customers cowered before a torrent of spittle and a colleague ducked before the flying pencil. "Who did THIS!!" I demanded, pointing to book SC11/50/10.

This treasured, calf-skin bound tome was open at the front flyleaf. Upon which. Was a doodle.

A Doodle! On one of OUR archives! Reader, I was incensed.....

I felt the pressure of a calm hand upon my shoulder and turned to see the kindly, yet wary face of my supervisor. " It's contemporary," she said quietly, "It was done over 300 years ago. The defacer is dead now."

 I wept with relief as did the customers.

More Archives Fans

A reader of this blog has sent in two more celebrity, white glove-donning archivists in disguise. Our friendly fan also suggested that if these two were working here, there would be no more nonsense like stink bombs in the building. That was intolerable.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....

Pow! Right in the kisser...

What a Wicked Game to Play...

Shocking news. The library copy of Orkney Today has gone missing today! 'Surely no-one would steal a newspaper from a public library?' I hear you muse, 'such a thing would be both a) ridiculous, as the paper costs less than a pound and b) evil.'

But apparently, newspaper thievery has been going on for ages! So much so that The Orcadian has to be kept beside a member of staff at all times! The paper is now attached to a piece of elastic which is connected to a special belt worn by whoever is on the desk. This has led to several staff members being dragged into the foyer and some people just let go of the paper when they are finished, letting it smack into the face of whoever is wearing the belt, but it is worth all of this trouble to keep a copy of our local paper available for all who wish to peruse it.

I phoned up Chris Isaak just now to wish him a Happy Birthday, told him of this outrage and he was as shocked as I was, if not more. In fact, he made up a song expressing his confusion about the matter. It's a little derivative of his old material, but I didn't tell him that...

Pedants unite!

Our new favourite blog: http://www.unnecessaryquotes.com/

Have At Thee, BBC's 'Who Do You Think You Are'!

A celebrity walks into an archive, or a quaint country home. A cheerful archivist greets them pleasantly, offers them a seat and immediately opens a book the exact page on which said celebrity's ancestor's details are recorded. The television/film/musical star sits rapt as the librarian/archivist/historian weaves a wonderfully detailed tale catered solely for this particular person's family history.

Supporting documents are plucked from thin air, photos appear at the click of fingers, a previously stern figure weeps thrilling tears because his great granny once had to lift a quite heavy bucket of water. The End

Wrong! If you look carefully, there are book marks in all the weighty tomes which are supposedly lifted from shelves by the archivist for the first time and it would be impossible to give this level of detail without several hours of research beforehand.

Sadly, the curse of WDYTYA? has encouraged visitors to libraries and archives to expect this magical service. They present themselves, tell us their last names and wait for us to produce the book of their family and move them to tears. It doesn't really work like that. Sorry.

When starting your family tree, always do as much research as you can within your own family before trying a records centre. Ask your parents and grandparents (if they are still around) as many questions as you can. Don't just ask for the names of your grandparents' parents; ask about their brothers and sisters too as this will make it easier to find them on a census. Middle names are also useful, as are any professions that you know of.

Take your research with you to the archive. We have several visitors every year who describe the reams of research and acres of carefully compiled scrapbooks that they left at home in loving detail. We need to see them.

Lastly, research takes a lot of time. Some of our visitors have been doing their family history for 10 years! Sometimes people are lucky and their relatives had an unusual name, were landowners or didn't move around very much and so can be traced easily from census to census. everyone else has to work at it. (It is fun though, you feel like a detective.)

Two particular episodes made every one here swoon with rage. First, was the Matthew Pincent episode where he was traced back to God. Don't get me started on that.

The second, was David Mitchell's episode. The morning after it aired, three of us all burst into the search room at 9am and shouted at each other "that lady was keeping Church Records in her HOUSE!"

This is Intolerable #201

Friends, I was unsure about telling what I am about to tell. I did not want to encourage this type of behaviour, nor turn your gentle stomachs but, quite frankly, I cannot get it out of my mind.

We had a staff meeting this morning and talk turned to unacceptable behaviour in the library. You may believe all libraries to be quiet temples of learning where all comport themselves with grace and composure, but you would be wrong. The entire rich, gross tapestry of life can be found within these hallowed walls.

One member of staff began to tell of the time that she found some lost property. It was a brief case. A fancy briefcase. Said member of staff took this object into her office, admired the shiny leather and, hoping to find some owner identification inside, plucked open the polished gold clasps.

Inside she saw, a pile of 'jazz' mags. And. A. Poo.

The entire contents of the briefcase were drenched liberally with urine.

The poor woman wept into a delicate, lace handkerchief as she told of this event which has led to several years in therapy and terrible, terrible nightmares for all members of staff who were on that day.

Just in case it is not clear, this sort of thing is unacceptable in Orkney Library and Archive.

Your mother doesn't work here!

One of our duties here in the archive is the booking and setting up of the meeting rooms which are situated on the first floor. Various organisations book the rooms and, first thing in the morning, we set out the tables and chairs and put out a laptop and projector if they are required. And that's it.

Some users, however, (and they are in the minority) are under the illusion that we are also able to abandon the searchroom to tidy up the chaotic messes that are sometimes left. Piles of filthy crockery tower in the kitchen, strawberry heads have been strewn across the carpet with gay abandon and every surface is dusted with a fine layer of crumbs. Sticky stains abound and crumbled papers lie abandoned by their owners. It  looks as though these staid meetings have in actual fact been brilliant parties with people rolling around in biscuits and linking their arms to drink from each others' glasses of juice.

We love that people are having a fab time in our MacGillivray room, we really do. We just don't want to clean up after it. In order to put this point across, our colleague has made a lovely poster to put in the room:

Very polite, I'm sure you'll agree. We had to dissuade her from putting up her first draft:

Copyright, On Being Blameless Protectors Of...

One of the most stressful and boring parts of working in a library or archive is explaining and upholding copyright. There are certain rules that we are expected to adhere to but, when we do so, we are made to feel like jobsworth nerds.

Readers can copy 5% of a published work, (or a chapter, whichever is bigger) and prospective house builders are only allowed an A4 section from maps which are less than 50 years old.

The majority of our wonderful customers are very understanding and lovely about it all, but some take it to heart in a most alarming manner.When we calmly and patiently explain these rules, some customers snort with derision, grunt mutinously, or gaze down at the map in their hands in a highly tragic manner and wait for us to change our minds. It makes us feel awful, like we are tattle tailing swots at school or puppy murdering sadists.

These copyright protesters seem to think that we are so personally attached to copyright restrictions that they can wound us with threats of information-related skullduggery. One customer said "I'm going to buy a tiny little hand-sized scanner and scan all the books that I want and you'll never even know!" Another said, "I'm going to come back when you're not working and then get more copies. Of the same map!" I wonder what craziness they'll get up to next. Eat their pudding before their dinner maybe? Sleep at the wrong end of the bed?

We don't make the rules, or cry if they're broken,  it's just our job to try and work with them.

We have had a department meeting about this and have decided that the next customer who tries to make us feel emotionally compromised for trying to uphold perfectly reasonable restrictions on copying the artistic works of other people, shall be shut up in one of the metal map cabinets for the rest of the day with nothing but a copy of our tediously complex copyright flowchart to while away the time.

Stinkbombs In The Library!

About half an hour ago, a sulphurous whiff reached our delicate nostrils. At first we assumed that one of our colleagues or customers had eaten a few too many egg sandwiches, but it has become apparent that stink bombs have been activated on the stairs, children's area and both ends of the top floor!

Staff members are currently patrolling the building armed with air freshener, so the situation is under control. We are sprinkling the ground with sweets and football stickers, making a trail to a big box propped up on a stick, to catch the offenders.

We shall then punish them in kind by locking them in with the smelly moths collection in the BioDiversity store.

Stoopid budget cuts, booooooooooooo!!!

A bit of a worrying article from Guardian today on the future of British libraries. I know that we'll soon be able to carry every bit of information in the world around in a gizmo the size of a stamp in our pockets, and that's ace; but you can't use the internet or an i-pod as a safe haven from bustling shops, to get human contact if you live alone or as a quiet place to study when you're a teenager from a large, noisy family.

It's the building that's important, not just the stuff inside.

Where is the love, Part 2

We have just had a fire drill. In the snow. With no jackets on.

This is not the most inopportune fire drill that I have attended,however, as one interrupted a Higher EXAM in school and another took place at a showing of Lord of the Rings in a cinema that seated over 300 people.

It all went very smoothly though, so customers can relax in the knowledge that Orkney Library and Archive will not let them burn to a crisp whilst they select books, read emails, research family history and bounce babies.

My old work's a dustbin

Do you know that horrifying stage in the middle of tidying up, when everything's lying on top of everything else and you wonder why you bothered starting?

Welcome to middle-of-closure-week archives!

On the plus side, no customers means that we can choose our own lunch-breaks and swap Loose Women for This Morning.