What is it?
First thing Friday morning Assistant Archivist Jen Galloway drove in to the Archive and Study Centre car park. She stopped. We had a group coming in the afternoon. She had a full-day planned, continuing the survey of archive collections to bring a higher level of order to the impending Transition. Archivist Craig was at home, working on the computer there. But.
One black tardis is a marvel, bordering on joy.
Jen, feeling the plans for the day slipping away, approached them. They were inert. They didn't move. They gave no sign of sentience.
She sent an email to Craig, which never arrived. (Well, it did; he just wasn't checking). "Craig, the boxes have arrived." In England it can rain at any time. 500 specialist archive boxes. pH balanced. Brass stapled. Half-length lids for a maximum combination of closure and contents security, and open-ability.
Improvise. Adapt. Come on.
Don't mess with an archivist.
500 boxes? Impending rain? Group coming to do meditation and yoga? Pah! If you want a massive task done, which verges on the impossible, call an archivist.
Boxes towering over her and safely inside, Craig finally arrived, in time to take the picture.
All over and everything away. Essential tools: a few hours and a sense of humour.
Pallets ditched. Black shrouds binned. Store room filled. Nothing left behind. Silence and the welcoming emptiness of a space ready for our guests.
Being an Assistant Archivist: Just another day.