Rusty Nails, Glass and Unknown Bones

Just Another Day At The Library

How many can say they’ve come to work to discover a box of gifts like this waiting for them on their desk?

The other day, a patron left the library a box of stones, nails, glass… and a bone. The bone appears to be a femur. I hope the femur is not human.

These items were a gift, sort of. The note that came with the box of items read that the patron found them while exploring a nearby hiking trail by a lake. The patron didn’t know what to do with the items.

So, they were brought to us. Why? Because we’d know what to do with them. Because we are a library and we barter in information. And yes, in fact, we DO know what to do with them.

Of all the things that people bring to us - the puzzles, VHS tapes, piggy banks, ornaments, food, buttons, family papers, the list goes on - a box of glass, stones and bones had to be the most unusual.

But you know what’s funny? We didn’t even blink. (Ok, yes, an actual bone is a little weird.) But thanks to our founder Sebastian Griffin, who was a naturalist and artifact collector, we’re sort of used to dealing in stuff found on or in the ground. You see, Sebastian chartered us not just as a library, but as a museum as well.

To that end, we have two rattlesnake rattles in our collection. We have arrowheads and pestles in our collection. We have a rum keg, a powder horn and a bung hole maker in our collection.

So a bone? Well, sort of just another day at the office. And what other job, I ask you, allows me to come into to work to discover a box of rusty nails, smoothed glass and bones waiting for me on my desk. No other job, at least not unless my name was Indiana.

So what to do with these treasure? Honestly, I’m not sure. I don’t think there’s any actual value here, but we do have to satisfy the patron who brought them in. So, next time I see the local town historian, I’ll have him take a look. I know a nurse and a doctor who are patrons, so I probably should have them look at the femur. (If it’s human, well, that will be a whole different ballgame.)

Maybe in the end I’ll just put the patron’s name on the collection, mark it as a donation, archive the pieces and slide it in with the rest of our collection in storage.

Ultimately, while I wouldn’t actively encourage our community to bring in boxes of random items found near a lake, I’m not going to tell them not to either. Because having questions about stuff - whether it’s history, or literature, or technology… or a bone… is what we do here. You want to know something. Ask us. We’ll figure it out. Or find somebody who can.

Meantime, does anybody want to donate a pair of sturdy work gloves that I can leave by my desk? You never know when rusty nails, dirty glass or real, actual, literal bones are going to show up. I just want to be prepared!