Writing a post Thanksgiving about books seems a bit off even to me. Surely I could fill up a post about traveling with two girls under the age of 4.5, being thrown up on (literally by both kids just days apart), Isabel and her love affair with Duke the boxer, the problem with pancakes, or managing to have a lovely time visiting with family- which we did. But no, I want to write about the lovely time I had on my holiday surrounded by books not people. (How social of me!)
I've always been a reader, from the time of the story hours at the Wayne Public Library and accidentally losing "Fraidy Cat" in my mailbox-shaped toy box and almost having my first library card ever taken away. But it's honestly been a long time since I sat down with a book and remained immobile for hours on end. (Harry Potter excluded, although, at this point, I don't think HP counts since I am sure there was something subliminally added to those books to keep readers rooted to their seats.) Some of this has to do with having kids but some of it also has to do apparently with my more recent selection of books. Try as I may, Zadie Smith just hasn't moved me. But on the recommendation of "Bit o' Lit" I picked up "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" in the airport on the way out of town. And I have to say I was just delighted. I spent more of my evenings curled up in a chair in my host's house than I did elsewhere and I don't feel a bit guilty about it. My "booky" holiday was capped off by a visit to The Reading Reptile, perhaps the coolest independent bookstore I have ever been to. (In fact, it is so freakin' cool, I've added it to my links of recommended sites to check out.) I should caveat here by saying that it's my mother-in-law who deserves all the credit in the world for discovering the Reading Reptile in Brookside, Kansas City. We made our first trip there last May when we were out West but I swear it's almost at pilgrimage status for me now. This past visit, a bunch of kids were happily ensconced in the back shredding endless amounts of paper to no apparent purpose, two cats lounged about on the paper maiche Olivia, a rabbit was trying to ignore the swarms of children hovering around his cage, and I hear there was a rat near the stage although I never made it that far. Gosh what fun. We probably stayed far too long for the money we spent but the visit of course re-ignited my not so small fantasy of being a shop owner. There really is something really magical about good books, isn't there?
Thank goodness, Ryan and I have bred readers, at least so far. There's few things more heartwarming to my geeky self than saying goodnight to both girls as the lay in bed books in hand. (By the way- the cutie in my lap is my new niece Gillian. I hope her parents don't mind that she's made it to my blog!)
2 comments:
All my life, from every vacation that my family took to every out-of-the-way little Americana downtown that we visited, I wanted to own a book store. Still do, in some strange way. I'm endlessly delighted that Evan loves to read. The other day, when I asked him what he wanted to do for a special adventure for the day, he announced, "Ice creams and the book club!" (his name for the store). Honestly, it's some sort of weird proof that I raised him right. So far. :)
I miss getting completely wrapped up in a good book...one so good that you'll still be awake at 4am on a work night reading it...haven't done that in a loooong time. I heard good things about the "Gurnsey...Society" on NPR :-) The last book I couldn't put down was The Quiet American, REALLY good. --HM
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