Tag Archives: Libby

Science Notes (3/21/25)

I’ve written here before about the Libby app I use to access the local library’s ebook catalog. Over the years, I’ve read hundreds of library books without ever having to actually visit the library. (Which is a pity in some ways. I’ve always loved libraries and even was a student librarian in high school. And there is value in being able to wander and browse.)

A while back the Libby app seriously expanded access to periodicals, so I’ve been reading the British magazine, New Scientist.

Which has turned out to be yet another reason to take notes…

Continue reading


I’m All-in On eBooks

I was raised by a book-loving dad who passed on to me both the love of reading and the love of books. (He also passed on a love of maps, but that’s a story for another post.)

One of my dad’s lifelong goals was to publish books, and by a round-about path he ultimately accomplished that goal. As an old TV commercial has it, “And I got to help!” He began with a printshop that eventually grew to a (very, very) small boutique book publishing shop. We did maybe half-a-dozen books.

So, a love and respect for books has long been with me.

Continue reading


Depressed and Disappointed

Puppy vs Borg cube

I try hard to face forward and appreciate what joy, wonder, and beauty, life brings, but the world all too often makes that a challenge. The past few weeks have been especially hard mostly because I’m at the end of my rope with tech companies. I wish I understood why we put up with such awfulness. Factor in the spam, the robocalls, and the junk mail, and I’m ready to go live in the woods far away from any of it.

On the top of my list right now is Apple with Sprint-is-now-T-Mobile in close second place. The library app, Libby, that I’ve raved about before is in third place with WordPress bringing up the rear. Not mention all the little stuff, some corporate, some personal.

Warning: Turn back now. The road ahead is bumpy. Falling rocks.

Continue reading


First Person Murder

Lately, for my mystery reading, I’ve returned to another old friend from my past: the Lovejoy series by British author Jonathan Gash. It’s a murder mystery series — the sort where the star, who is not a detective of any kind, in each book is confronted with a murder to solve. Usually against their will; they’d rather be doing anything else.

The Lovejoy series has the added attraction that each book spends a fair fraction of the text talking about antiques. The main character, known only as Lovejoy, is an antiques dealer struggling to make a living. He’s also an antiques “divvie” — he has a definite, if somewhat mystical, connection with genuine antiques. He can always tell the difference between real and fake (as he describes it, a bell goes off in his chest).

I just started reading them last week, and I was immediately struck by something.

Continue reading