When I was a kid, my life calendar was all about the next holiday and not having to go to school.
It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to go to school but that I didn’t want to have to get up so dang early. (They could have made school start at ten instead of eight and I’d’ve been a happy camper.) The getting up early, though, wouldn’t have been such a problem except that it interfered with staying up late the night before. So why does a kid need to stay up so late — it’s all about the books.
Yep, this girl’s a reader. My life calendar these days is measured in books instead of days and weeks.
And holidays? They’re just one more opportunity for a family squabble, so who needs ’em!
I can’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t holed up somewhere reading a book. It drove my grandmother bonkers. She hated to see me inside reading when my brother and sisters and cousins were out playing. She used to make me watch afternoon soap operas with her to keep me from reading but I’d have an open book across my lap, sneaking peeks and distracting her when I needed to turn the page. (I’m pretty sure she knew I was doing it but, as long as I kept up with the soaps’ story lines, she let me get a way with it.) Granny loved her soaps. Wonder what she’d have thought about blogging.
Back to topic …
I read while waiting in the drive-up line and I read while waiting at red lights, too. (I get a lot of beeps from the cars behind me.)
I read while I should be watching what I’m cooking on the stove. (I’ve developed a real affinity for charred food.)
I read while I’m watching TV and, yes, I’ve even been known to read while I’m blogging.
It’s a sickness, this book thing, and there is no cure.
What is your passion? What keeps you going day after day, year in and year out? What’s the big thing on your life calendar?