I volunteer at a library, and I was over there the other day when a lady comes up and asks if she can sign up for a library card. That’s normal, right?
But then I take the form from her, and I see the name she’s written (hope I don’t get sued for this).
Blueskyes Liberty.
Um…what?
And her proof of identity was…a farmer’s market raffle card.
Well, we took it, because we are a two-room library run primarily by old ladies. But as soon as she walked out the door, my friend Karen whirled around and hissed, “That woman lied to us!”
“Congratulations, Einstein,” someone muttered.
She waved them off, and someone else told us a story about an old friend of hers became a hippie and changed her name to Shiva Moondance. Evidently she had a son..who she named…
Twilight Magic Moondance.

I’ll just give you a minute.