Last week my mother told me a disturbing story about my Grandmother and the library. Each week my mum takes my Grandma (now 89) to our Regional Council Library. She is highly indiscriminate in her choice of books. Just about anything will do and usually in the space of 10 minutes has an armful ready to go to the checkout desk. It’s about the same amount of time my mother has taken to fight her way into a position to be able to search through the DVDs. And then, they have to leave. Because with my grandma, there is no waiting….unless it’s for her.
Anyway, last week my mother told me something particularly interesting. My Grandma decided that one of the books she had borrowed ( I know not which) was chock-a-block full of incorrect punctuation. Being an imperious ex-schoolteacher she decided that this simply would not do. So she got out her biro (yes that’s right her biro, not her pencil) and went right through the book correcting the punctuation. Her reasoning – if she didn’t do that then the next person to read might think that wrong was right.