What a difference six months makes. Here’s the beginning of my entry to this blog on January 26.
Hooray! It’s raining in Houston! I’ve got Lena Horne up singing “Stormy Weather” and am giving serious thought to hitting the couch with a book from my reading stack. But, oh dear, that’s where I run into trouble. I’m in deep book trouble.
Yes, things have changed. I almost started this entry, “Drat, it’s raining again.” The last few weeks sea-levelHoustonhas turned into a swamp. Rain, lots of rain, lots and lots of rain has poured down on us so much that that the cacti in my pot garden are begging to be moved to the porch out of the wet. “Please, Mom! We don’t like wet feet.”
Still, some things don’t change. Rainy days always make me want to read, especially when the lightening is hitting close enough that it is wise to turn off the
computer. The books on the reading stack beckon, so do the unread magazines—don’t get me started again on the London Review of Books—and (oh more trouble!) the lovely pink Kindle that my three clever and addicted-reader offspring gifted me with for Mother’s Day. Hard choices. Maybe it’ll keep raining.
Something else that doesn’t change is that reading stack, particularly if I count the unread ones in the Kindle. My daughter, who is also my friend, recently moved back to her home city. When I made my what-to-read lament, she gave me a lecture; it’s a version of the one-in, one-out theory I’m already trying to follow.
“If you buy a book, you have to read it before you can buy another.” She smiled over her cup of vanilla latté to make the words seem less harsh.
“But what if I don’t like it?” I almost whined. “Sometimes it just doesn’t click.”
“Then put it in the give-away stack. Get rid of it. Someone else will like it.”
On this rainy morning, I’m taking her words to heart. While the water for tea came to a boil, I surveyed the reading stack. There, way on the bottom was the very book I was thinking about reading as 2012 began, Return to Pemberly. Oh,
dear. So much for New Year’s Resolutions; yet, it’s never too late.
Boom! The lightning’s back. I’m turning off the computer and returning to Pemberly.
Later—the sky is still dark but the lightning has moved on. This Pemberly is a fine book. If it keeps raining, I may finish it by bedtime. While I was having my lunch break I came up with a couple of ‘wonders’ for you to help me with.
First off, I’ve lived in this house four years but I haven’t yet staked out what I’ve always had—a reading place. I seem to grab a book (or the Kindle) and flop on the nearest soft surface. I miss having a ‘spot’ of my own. It’s been upstairs in a closet (sixth grade), the living room sofa (several homes), the chair by the fireplace in the study (myGeorgiahome), and now I seem to have turned into a reading gypsy. Where do you read?
And what do you read? I mean what medium? Seems like folks are picking
camps. My son, a missionary e-reader has gotten rid of about all of his books, and yet I have friends who are uncomfortable in the same room with the devilish devices. Right now, I’m going both ways. Time and place for everything. Then, there are audio-books. They saved my sanity ages ago when I had a 60-mile commute twice a day, but I haven’t heard one in years. “Good for working in the yard,” another pal tells me. How do you feel?