Well today is the second of January. So that brings up the letter B. I have thought about this letter as I was doing chores today. Words that came up were blood, blogs, books, buggers, blue, boyfriends, babies beach and many more crossed my mind. Side note, I confess I started this post at 11 but now when i am posting it’s more than half past 12.
I think I will write about books. I love books. I love the feel of them in my hand. I love to curl up on my bed among all my pillows and get lost in the story. So many times books have kept me company when people have not. I have learned so many things, discovered so many worlds and they have led me on journeys outside of the stories because something I have read has peaked my interest and I want to learn more about it.
When I learned, I learned quickly. I wasn’t a child who learned before school but learned when I was in kindergarten. For my first four months of kindergarten I went to a city school. There kindergarten was more centered around fun. In January we moved and I started at a school in the burbs. There they taught me to read. My classmates started in September but I started in January. By the end of the year I had caught up and by passed a lot of the students. I will always remember the yellow books and taking new ones out of the bins. I don’t remember stumbling over words as I learned them, once the window was opened I grabbed hold and have never let go of such a treasured gift.
One of the books I remember when I was a child was a story on Clara Barton. I remember having to do a book report on her and copying the front cover of the book for the cover page of my report. I was back at the burb school so it was between 4th and 6th grade. Another book I remember from that time was a book on learning to make Ukrainian eggs. I was captivated by the book that taught me how to put the wax on and then dye the eggs and then put another layer on. The method is called Pysanka. My parents even got me a stylus to use to put the wax on. I have loved the art of it since but have never gotten back into it. Melting the wax was hard. I wonder if I still have my stylus?
The summer between 6th and 7th grade ( or somewhere in there) I can remember being crazy about a book where the girl went to camp for the first time. I so wanted to go to camp like she did, do what she did. I just remember reading it over and over again. I was heading in to middle school and it was a huge step and I think I lost myself in the simplicity of the girls life. I wished I remembered more, but all that comes back to me are snippet's of her going to the camp store or of her cabin hiking somewhere and spending the night under the stars. I loved that book and still think about it occasionally remembering the sensation of anticipation to read the book, more so than the story itself.
When I look back at the books I read in High School I can’t believe what I was reading or that my mom even let me. I have a feeling she never knew. I was reading romance books – not even having a clue on what I was reading but loving the “love” stories.
I have always had a book with me. I even buy my purses with the thought in mind… Is it big enough for my book? Sometimes I even have 3 or 4 going at once. I have no problem keeping them straight (at least most of the time) but sometimes I struggle with reading one because I so want to go read the other as it has captivated me.
I have a confession to make. I will read ahead and also will read the last few pages to see who ends up with who or who did the crime. Some say that is a terrible thing, but for me it makes the reading of the book so much enjoyable. Now that I know kinda of what happens I can focus on the story rather than looking for clues for what is going to happen next. In the last few years I have been listening to Books on Cd – let me tell you not knowing how it will turn out just kills me. lol.
I have a hard time reading the classics. I like stories I can releate to. Sometimes when I read classics or even new books if I don’t understand the feelings the characters are having or the “voice” of the book I have a hard time finishing it. I get board easily and can’t finish it. I do try though, and will continue to try because sometimes books capture you and you don’t even know why but it can take a bit to get into it. I am the eternal optimist that I will always like the book and find it very hard to concede defeat and not finish it. So I always give it a chance no matter what book it is.
I don’t think I will ever be a convert to “The Nook” or “Kindle” or any of the other hand held machines. I love going into bookstores. I love the art of picking out a book, do you go with the cover or the description on the back? I love holding it in my hand when I read, the action of turning the pages, the musty smell that can drift up from the pages when you turn them. To me reading a computer screen does not match up to that feeling of a paper based book will give me. Seeing the notes in the margin or the turned over corners set by the people who read the book before me is irreplaceable. Looking at your bookcase and seeing all that you have read, it’s like they are old friends. That is what books are to me. They are my friends. I don’t want to lose that friend.