How’s that for a lame title? I can’t think of anything witty, clever or more obvious. I do like the aliteration though. Other than that, it’s rather bland.
Anyway, the books. Most came from the library. If not for the library, my credit card be hard hit and Doc would be breathing fire. He keeps insisting we pay bills. Bills? More lameness. Money is for books.
And chocolate. Coffee, too.
Bills. B-O-R-I-N-G.
Oops, sorry. Distracted again. Books recently read: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith, Leave Me Alone, I’m Reading by Maureen Corrigan, The Secret Garden by Frances Hodges Burnett and My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George.
Smith’s novel of growing up in turn-of-the-century Brooklyn was one of those classics I always wanted to read, yet it never seemed to be at the top of the reading pile. How many of us had the same experience as Francie, the novel’s book-loving heroine?
From that time on, the world was hers for the reading. She would never be lonely again, never miss the lack of intimate friends. Books became her friends and there was one for every mood. There was poetry for quiet companionship. There was adventure when she tired of quiet hours. There would be love stories when she came into adolescence and when she wanted to feel a closeness to someone she could read a biography. On that day when she first knew she could read, she made a vow to read one book a day as long as she lived.
Thus the power of books. (And I swear I never read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn before naming my blog books are our friends. The orgins of the blog title is a story for another day.)
Leave Me Alone, I’m Reading is a book about books and reading. No surprise there.
I checked out The Secret Garden for Susan thinking she would enjoy it, but she’s uninterested, even with the lovely color illustrations this version has. So I read it. I’d heard wonderful praise for the story before, but up until now, I’d never read it for myself. Such a beautiful story; I enjoyed it, getting weepy in all the appropriate parts.
My Side of the Mountian was a purchase for Peter. He’s not capable of reading it yet, but I knew if I could get him to sit still long enough, he would enjoy the storyline. I began reading it to him and, he liked it, but he’s is not clamoring for the rest.
So, just like with Susan’s book, I read it for myself.
I remember reading Mountian as a girl and wanting to be just like the hero Sam. Needless to say, I was a tomboy and living alone in the woods inside a tree and training a falcon was my idea of the high life. It’s still appealing all these years later.
