I've talked about it - I read ... a lot! I mean, I go through books more often than I need to throw out my trash. Yesterday, during lunch I finished yet another book. Luckily I had one waiting here on standby so my commute home wasn't filled with people watching, day dreaming, and reading the signs on the subway.
I stayed up till about midnight last night... curled up in my bed, reading... There aren't many other things I'd rather be doing. Well maybe laying out on the grass on a cool day when the sun warms you just enough to be comfortable... but that time of year is done. I also enjoy the occasional cushy couch next to the hot fireplace on a cold, wet day. But all those things are never appreciate for long... unless I have a book.
During my conversation with Paul, I talked about how I am again beginning to all too quickly fly through my stack of unread books. This is only 4 days after our trip to Barnes & Noble where I needed to buy just 3 more. Maybe I should have accepted the Kindle as a birthday gift this past spring. It would after all be better for the environment & possibly my wallet. I just couldn't do it though... I LOVE to read. I mean I cannot really express it any other way. But I LOVE books... the whole experience.
He talked about some friends at school who were very booky and had kindles and they loved them. But they probably aren't really "booky" they are probably just readers. Readers love to read. Now I am booky. I don't just like to read the book, I like to feel the pages. Smell the book. Look at the way it's printed. Feel the pages between my fingers. I am a booky. It's an obsession, but there are worse things. I still feel guilty ... the trees, the waste, the money... what to do?
I dream of one day having that home library - however small it might have to be. Windows. Natural Light. Fireplace. Pages and pages and pages....