Books....

One of the few happy memories I have from my childhood was walking, or riding my bike to the library.  I wasn't allowed to go alone, so I had to beg, plead and cajole a sibling or two to go with me (it was a mile or two from our house and across some busy roads).  I remember walking in the door and having a sense of "welcome home."

When I left the library I'd have a stack of 10 or 12 books, if I rode my bike, my basket would be so full and heavy it would be hard to ride, or the bag hanging from my handlebars would bang my knee when I pedaled.  I loved the anticipation of discovering if my book choices were good ones - and often they were.  A couple days later I would have finished all my books and be ready to return to the libary to re-stock my supply.  (And the very best thing about the library was that it was free!)

I tried out science fiction (not my favorite) biographies (still remember the one about Abigail Adams that I read over and over), general fiction (don't remember fantasy being around back then) and eventually settled on mysteries as my favorite genre.  Still love them.

And after all these years I'm still reading.  I've been teased about how much I read.  I don't generally go anywhere without a book in hand (or bag), and feel bereft if I've forgotten a book.  My Grandmother told my mother quite emphatically that I was allowed to read too much, that it wasn't good for me to spend so much time reading when  I should be doing other things.  (Looking back, I think my Mom liked me to be reading a lot, that way she didn't have to bother with me.)

I so loved finding this comic strip - Ruthie is one of my new heroines because we share the same affinity for books and libraries.  It is one place I've never felt rejected.

And now, (after I fix lunch for The Husband) I'll sit at the table with my own lunch and enjoy the next book in my stack - a biography of The Holocaust survivor that has me riveted.

So happy to know I'll not ever run out of things to read....