It's not pretty when that happens. My name is Diane, and yes, I am a read-a-holic.
|Blatant escapism from a perfectly decent life|
When I was first married and wanted reading material, I simply ordered books from Amazon and sat at the window, waiting for the UPS truck to drive down the street and deliver my package the way my kids would wait for the ice cream man. Sure, the kids were embarrassed those times when the truck didn't stop and I'd run down the street after it, crying and screaming that I wanted my books already. But then I'd remind them about the time they threw up in Denny's and embarrassed me and their Dad, and that was that.
But I digress. All those Amazon books eventually added up to a lot of dough, which I learned about Month 3 after I started buying them. Plus I try not to keep a book unless I really, really love it -- otherwise we'd start having a space and storage issue (I mean, more than we do already). So I was ending up with a lot of enjoyed, but ultimately unwanted books.
And that's when I discovered my public library system, which I've used religiously ever since. I read it, I hand it back, and someone else enjoys it. If I truly love it, then I will buy it and put it on my bookshelf.
Today's haul from our small library in town includes a memoir from Carole King (singer from the 1970's), a fictional tale of a teenage girl and the afterlife, Mark Helprin's new book, and a collection of funny travel stories.
I will read all of these, once my chores are done, or if I'm doing something (like watering trees) where I can easily free up enough brain power to read while doing it. So I may be running water while laying out in our pasture among the new grasses, but in my mind I will be adventuring in the Troubadour nightclub in Los Angeles, in Heaven, in New York, or maybe in Tangiers, in that order.
It's going to be a great four-part trip, I'm telling you.