Thursday, August 11, 9:30 PM. Amy.

I miss restaurants.

I miss restaurant food.

I miss being served.

I miss not having to clean up.

I miss the noise.

I miss the crowds.

I miss having a conversation with someone I don’t already know, a stranger, someone unexpected.

Brewer got our power system upgraded tonight after studying a magazine he nabbed when we raided the library this morning. The new system uses more gas but we can run more of the appliances at once. He won’t have to refill it so often.

The kids went berserk when we got to the library. You’d think they’d never seen a book before. At first they picked over them, admiring but not taking anything. Then they started asking for permission to take one or two books home. Then we thought, what are we diddling around for? Who knows what’s going to happen to this library in the months to come? A window could break, everything could get soaked and ruined. Let’s take anything that looks interesting.

Everybody got lots of books that will keep them educated and busy for a long time. Brewer found most of the essentials he was hoping for: carpentry, farming, livestock, solar power, even something on blacksmithing. I found a treasure trove on gardening, preserving, and medicine. I found a book on making your own cleaning supplies. I took a bunch of homeschool curriculum. For myself, I picked up several classics of literature that I’ve never got around to reading. We found some maps and atlases we badly needed.

Even with everything we took, we’ll need to go back. We have so much to learn just to make it through the winter. And beyond that…?

Everyone was ecstatic on the way home. All three kids have spent the rest of the day reading. Brewer’s in there reading Little House in the Big Woods to Claire and Trevor now.

Did we never provide books for our kids? Why are they acting like they’ve been starved of the written word all their lives? It’s wonderful to see their joy in such an enriching pasttime.

And yet, for me, being at the library was one of the saddest moments I’ve had. Wandering through the stacks, browsing over the titles, it drove home how much has already been lost.

I’ve always wanted to learn Russian. Here’s a book on Russian. Perhaps I’ll take it, perhaps I’ll teach myself at home. But then I think: Russian? Are there even any Russians left?

I’m strolling through the library. I see an interesting book: What the Best College Teachers Do. I think, oh, that will come in handy when the semester starts up again in— Wait. No semester is starting up. I’m not a college professor anymore.

And so on and on for book after book, topic after topic, on shelf after shelf.

Mid-Century Home Decoration Today

A New Future for the Republican Party

Fashion Trends 202X

The Race to Colonize Mars

How to Play the Stock Market

Last Chance to Stop Climate Change

The Ultimate Dallas Cowboys Trivia Book

Exploring Sri Lanka on $10 a Day

They’re all hymns to toppled gods: beautiful, soaring, but empty.

There was a moment when I was standing there, looking at the travel section, when I could’ve fallen into that emptiness. So many hopes and dreams, a whole vision of the future, hopelessly unraveled. Brewer came up behind me and put his hand in the small of my back. Something about that snapped me out of it. I saw the kids rushing around, shouting at each other to come see what they’d found, showing each other bright book covers and pictures, and I started to catch some of their delight.

By the time we got home the spell had passed. I’ve felt more contented this evening.