My father loved to read and he shared the love of books with me. Even before I learned to read I would go to the library with him. He went every couple of weeks to get his supply of books and while he searched for just the right books to get I would wander the aisles in the wonder of all the shelves of books impatient for the day when I could have a library card and be permitted to take books home.
When I was finally in the first grade the wonderful day came and I got my library card. I have not been without one since that day. Every couple of weeks I go to the library to wander and wonder and choose books just like Daddy did all those years ago.
The library here is renovating all the branches and now it is my libraries turn. My branch will be closed for about a year. Of course, there are other branches but not within walking distance so not as convenient. I will survive the year, though inconveniently. It is wonderful that the library will be updated with meeting and media rooms, and more computers. It will be light and fresh and new. It is exciting but it is also sad. Sad because there will be fewer books, actual printed paper books with covers that spark the imagination. Real books to leaf through and read a sentence here and there before checking it out at the front desk and carrying it home.
It is probably a good thing that I am as old as I am because I will not know the day when there are no real books. When libraries will be buildings with meeting and media rooms and computers. Nice, even beautiful buildings, but bare of shelves holding the world of books with written words waiting to be wandered through with wonder. Sad for me and sad for the readers of the future, too, who will only know e-books read on computers and tablets and phones. They will not know books that have weight and presence that can be leafed through back-and-forth, felt and held like a friend or lover.
The Friendly Fill-Ins are four fun and easy statements to complete.
Ellen of 15andmeowing provides the first two statements,
the final two are provided by Annie of Mcguffy’s Reader.
My nickname is…well, it depends on our relationship or when you first met me. If you are my family it’s PJ. If you met me before I was 40 it’s Pat. If you met me after I had my mid-life crisis of sorts there is no nickname just my name, Patricia.
The first thing I ever won was a big box of salt water taffy. I was five or six and entered a coloring contest sponsored by a comic book company, Dell Comics(?).
I have never been to a prom.
Next year I hope to have completed my mission to simplify my life by seriously decluttering and giving away many unneeded possessions.
Today at Patricia’s Place it is Wednesday.
It doesn’t matter what the rest of the world says
this is my place and if I want it to be Wednesday so be it.
Today I am linking to
Word for Wednesday
My word is
clumsy, incompetent person, derelict, alcoholic,
destitute or down and out person
That’s the official definition, but my gramma and ma
used the word quite often to refer to their husbands.
Neither husband was incompetent, derelict or destitute.
They did however sometimes have a bit too much hooch
and that made them seem a little down and out and definitely clumsy.
When I was a kid I thought it was a term of endearment and maybe it was.
No one seemed angry with the men when they were in stumblebum mode.
In fact, there was a lot of laughter when the stumblebums were being…clumsy.
Now, if stumblebum mode got to the falling down and embarrassing stage,
I’m not saying it ever got to that stage, but if it did that could be a whole ‘nother word.
We’ll just leave it here with stumblebum.
When I was a little girl my biggest wish was to be a grown-up.
After all, grown-ups were tall and could reach whatever they wanted.
And they could have whatever they wanted without asking anyone.
Grown-ups didn’t have to take a nap and they could stay up late.
They went wherever they wanted when they wanted.
And they could go places by themselves and never had a babysitter.
Plus, they didn’t have to go where they didn’t want to.
When they were hungry they ate when they weren’t they didn’t.
They always had money in their pockets to buy what they wanted.
They could get mad and yell and not be sent to their room.
The only downside I could see was they didn’t have teddy bears.
When I was a little girl I was wrong about being a grown-up.
Except about not having a teddy bear.
I’m a grown-up now and still have my Guy.
I am grateful for three people who made a difference in my life
by caring enough to listen and hear me and help me find answers.
My third grade teacher for sharing her love of books and reading which led to my love of books and reading. Every afternoon she would turn off the classroom lights and we would put our heads down on our desks and she would read to us for around 15 minutes. She read the most wonderful stories. I wanted the stories to go on and on, but we only had that 15 minutes. When I told her I wanted to hear more she said not to worry because I was learning to read and I would read lots of stories myself whenever I wanted. I am so thankful to Mrs.C for giving time to a little girl was looking for an answer.
Dr. S. For 30 years, I had gone to doctors trying find an answer to what was happening to my body. They would do the same tests over and over and shake their heads and tell me I was a hyper person with high anxieties and if I would learn to calm down and relax the problems would go away. Then I met Dr.S. He listened to me and asked questions that I had never been asked before. Then he said I didn’t seem to be a hyper person and he could understand my anxiety because of what I was experiencing physically. There were three relatively simple tests that would give him the info he needed to determine a course of action. The tests were done showing surgery was needed. He did the surgery and in a couple of months, though not completely gone, the problems are controllable. The most amazing thing was that Dr. S apologized for all the doctors that didn’t listen or take me seriously. I am thankful for Dr. S for giving me his time and attention and care.
My friend E. For her patience and prayers and encouragement and love. She spent time with me, listened to and answered questions, and walked with me as I was finding my way after being lost for so long. She taught me what being a friend is by being a friend. She taught by example what a life of faith looks like. I will always be thankful for E’s being a part of my life.
Lost in Translation’s Thursday’s Special
prompt this week:
When I was a child my grandmothers and mother had button jars.
I think almost every woman had one.
When something was ready for the rag box the buttons were taken off and saved.
If something was made at home and new buttons bought,
at the five and dime store, the extras went into the button jar.
I don’t think women have button jars anymore…or rag boxes.
I don’t have a rag box but, I do have a button jar.
The picture is of the buttons from my jar.
Some of the buttons are from gramma’s jar, some from mom’s and some
are extras that come with sweaters, shirts, and blouses that I buy.
When I was little I would sort through the button jars.
It was like the buttons were jewels and kind of magical.
Sometimes I sort through the buttons I have.
They are like magical jewels bringing sweet memories to mind.