Let's get that last post off of the top.
I included a ticker on the sidebar of my blog with my goodreads read book updates. I love to read. I literally (HA!) adore reading. My nightstand always has a pile of books that are either being read or next in line. One of my favorite things to do is to get lost in a book, which if you ask my husband I frequently do! When I'm reading, everything else is gone, I am in the book, and the world could fall down around me and I wouldn't notice. I've had (allegedly) entire conversations...conversations where I was told I respond "uh-huh," "nope," "yep"....that I don't even remember with my husband. If he really wanted to take advantage, he could probably get me to agree to anything. And you wonder where that 1950 Ford came from ;o) When I read a really good book I can get so into it that I may start thinking in the accent of the story, I'll even find myself coming close to talking in that accent, and sometimes my mood is even effected by whatever I'm reading. That wouldn't be such a big deal if I didn't love to read so many sad books. What's a story without a little drama though?!
My earliest impression of books was when my father took me to a library in downtown St Paul. I'm not sure how old I was, but it must have been around kindergarten or first grade because I think I knew how to read. The library was spacious, enormous, and completely glorious! Marble pillars soared above my head (not exactly a huge feat, I was on the small side as a kid), marble floors shone before me. There were shelves three times as high as me, filled with more books than I could ever explore in a lifetime. A bittersweet feeling, that, knowing that there are more stories than you could ever lay your hands on, that you could never have enough time to discover what's inside each one, but at the same time feeling so safe in the fact that you will never be bored, never be done learning. And the children's section! There were stuffed animals to recline on and people telling stories, and shelves and shelves of colorful books at just my height. I was overwhelmed. I couldn't believe that something that beautiful, that special, was there specifically to house books. Those simple, unassuming, rectangular packages. There's something reverential, and rather church-like about libraries. That quiet hush, the shuffling and rustling of the pages. There's something magic in books.
Isn't it funny what everyday things may shape your life as a child?
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