I am cussing, still. Here’s what happened. Lois was finishing up cleaning books and was leaving the Meeting House. I followed behind her. She saw it first, in front of the steps, a pile of stuff. We moved in closer and inspected the drop off.

Someone had dumped seven plastic bags of National Geographics and an airline suitcase/duffle bag for our consideration.

I made several trips back and forth, putting the dropped off material in the pile of existent books, soon to be taken to the recycling center and pulped and shredded. All the while, I wondered, who would do such a thing? The door was open, so whoever it was could have stepped inside and said they had a drop off for us.

Molded materials can’t be recycled. Someone is going to have to take the magazines to the dump. And the encyclopedias – well, if I didn’t have so many books to deal with right now, I’d attempt to find a place for them. I can’t save all the so-called parvo puppies.

I wonder how the person justified leaving their detritus on the steps of a church. Most likely they were just glad to have gotten rid of it. Too bad we don’t have a surveillance camera, one that zoned in on their license plate number. Arrgh.

This person has no conscience. This, sad to say, is now the norm rather than the exception. How did this come to be? We are evolving into stale croutons. We as a species have done many amazing things, but it seems to me as though the scales are now tipping in the direction of less amazing things.

In the meantime, the Palmer Senior Center is consolidating its library, moving all the books from two rooms into one room. That which they don’t want they are putting in boxes, and the boxes into a corner. I was told that I could have this ever growing pile of boxed books.

Today, when this offer was again made to me, I did some quick calculations. Tomorrow, Wednesday, I have a morning zoom meeting, then in the early afternoon I have to start packing for a two-week trip.

I will distribute books in the late afternoon. I am to leave Thursday, mid-morning. I, quite obviously, will not have the time to shlep books around. I talked with a level-headed person at the place. He said that he’d find a place for the books, and during my absence he’ll bring the books upstairs on Tuesdays, the day that I usually go into the Senior Center. When I get back, I’ll start moving them upstairs.

This makes sense because I don’t want to take the books someplace else, then lug them back to the Palmer Senior Center.

Tomorrow’s Zoom Meeting, which will be with a consultant, might provide us with building inroads. One can only hope. Then again, hope is an illusion. An overabundance of books, this is not an illusion. Nor is an overabundance of moldy National Geographics and a complete set of encyclopedias.

Next: 224. 8/17/22: Books Galore