Why I love libraries. Way back in 1960, when I was a just two years old, my Mother disappeared for a few days and then returned with a baby. From that day forth my father was expected to take his nose out of his books from time to time and help out by keeping me entertained while Mum was otherwise occupied. Dad was an academic man who showed very little interest in my dolls so, in a bid to keep us both amused, he took me down to Ruislip library and persuaded the nice librarian to issue me with my own ticket. Since that day I have never been without a library ticket. Every Saturday morning we drove into town and while Mum took her place in the queue for the bakers, Dad and I would head to the library where I was settled into the children's section while he selected books for the rest of the family. He always chose his own books from the non-fiction section as he didn't see much point in reading a book that didn't teach you anything. We all relied on the lib...