I spent a lot of time this weekend getting organized and figuring out what I need to do at different archives, so I was ready to spring into action this morning and get some work done. I was working at The National Archives (a.k.a. TNA, the PRO) on Friday and decided to head back there today.
It was a beautiful clear day and everything in Kew was covered with a light blanket of snow. Usually when the train stops a herd of researchers pours off the train down the quiet residential street that leads to the archive, but not today. Today, I was the only person walking in that direction. It was a little after ten so I attributed the lull in foot traffic to having missed the morning rush of visitors better equipped than me at getting out the door before nine. It was a pleasant, peaceful walk.
When I reached the archive, however, they were closed. This was of course because it is Monday and they are always closed on Mondays. I should have remembered this because there are no fewer than a half dozen sandwich board signs announcing this fact on their grounds. I do recall thinking this morning as I passed several of them that I was rather sick of hearing about the archive being closed on Monday, but I failed to make the connection between the signs' message and the fact that today was, indeed, Monday. I should have known better. Although TNA was at some point in the not-so-distant past open on Mondays, it's never been in my brief time here.
And so I was forced to turn back to the station, where, one hour and £2.40 in tube fare later, I was basking in the warm glow a microfilm reader in Clerkenwell at the London Metropolitan Archives.
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