The Deliciousness of A Good Book

When I was a little girl, I loved to read.  My nose was buried in a book any day, often all day.  If I was not buried in a book, on little pieces of orange notebook paper my uncle brought home to us in bulk, I would write out stories.

When my brother and I would play for hours at our creek or out in the neighbors hundreds of wooded acres across the road from us, I would make up amazing stories that we would be the hero and heroine of.  We lived many great adventures.

On days my mom and dad would have us helping with weeding, stacking wood, shoveling manure, helping with canning, etc I would make up stories in my head to make the time go faster.  Often I would tell made up stories to my siblings...especially my brother.

My brother has an incredible oral story telling ability.  He amazes me.  He can have me on the floor laughing or scared to death to get out of my vehicle at night...and I'm a grown woman!  I, on the other hand, am the writer of my days (pretty obvious, I know) but a speaker?  Not so much.  Public speaking scares me insanely much.

When my boys were being born and little, it occurred to me one day for some reason that I could not even remember the last book I had read.  When I dug around the house I found some book I had read...the year before.  Since then I have tried to be much more conscientious of reading.  Back when S2 was a baby, I had no computer (can you imagine!), no cell phone, no cable tv, no facebook, no twitter, no blogging (but journaling sporadically) and I was not reading.

Now my time is being pulled in every direction.  The boys are older and one would think that would make life easier and while, yes, I'm not changing diapers anymore, I am also busier.  The amount of food I make in a week is startling to me.  School keeps us hopping.  Work.  The farm.

My husband feels reading is about as thrilling as watching paint dry.  And me curled up with a good book can be annoying to him...if all he did was sharpen chainsaw chains when I wanted to spend time with him, I would be annoyed too.  (Chains for cutting wood...that sounded slightly odd, didn't it?) So we find some tv series we love to watch on Netflix and spend our time at night cuddled on the couch watching tv.  We love it.  Who doesn't love to cuddle with the love of their life?

Alicia introduced me to Goodreads and while I am not very good at keeping it up to date, I do find it helps immensely.  You can make a reading goal for the year and this year I decided to be brave and say I would read 26 books this year.  Considering I had a hard time reading ONE book a month last year this was a huge commitment to me.

Alicia?  She thinks she can read 75 books this year.  She's a reading machine.  I love this about her.

Last night, Jake had to go plow.  I was not happy about this because we had a night planned - nothing  big but still.  I mopped floors, cleaned the kitchen, blogged...I know, I am thrilling...and when I crawled into bed I thought, "Gasp! I could read for a bit."

I snuggled into bed, pulling my special Strawberry Shortcake blanket around me and propping pillows. It was eleven.  I'd been tired all evening, I'd suffered a severe headache on the right side of my head that had set my eye brow to twitching and while I was feeling fine now (and in large part because I refused to look up my symptoms on the internet, it would have me dead by morning, I was sure) I knew I shouldn't read too late.

I had read the first chapter a week or so before and thought it so so.

About four chapters in I was hooked.

I couldn't put it down.  I had to know what happened.  I heard a vehicle rumble and thought Jake was back from plowing perhapes...but it wasn't him. No, it was my neighbor.  Leaving. For. Work.

That's right...it was nearly five in the morning.

I had no idea, and I was *this* close to finishing.

At five thirty, I finished.  I closed the book and rubbed the cover.  It was a delicious evening this book and I had had.  I sent a text to Alicia, who I knew was just waking up.  She was the one who told me to read The Hunger Games series, I shouldn't have doubted that she would know I would like this book that normally I wouldn't even bother to look at twice.

After a few hours of sleep and a *few* cups of coffee, I am still thinking over this book.  That's the fun about the books - even when you are done reading you aren't done living the story.

I was thrilled and pained to see there is a second book coming out in May.  

This post - rambling long as it is - isn't to tell you read this book (although I would recommend it in a heartbeat), it's just to remind you to read.  A book.  Not just your computer or a magazine but a book where you live with the characters.  

It's a delicious thing, a good book.

My Husband is Going to Call me After this Blog Post

I thought, since there may be some of you who actually stop by the blog just to see what is up in my life...because some of you actually laugh at things that happen to me like Sadie chewing a hole in the pillows and so now our bed is covered in “snow”, the boys think that frogs should be allowed to stay the night (seriously), there was a book sale I went to this past weekend that had S4 “accidentally” kicking my leg with every step to remind me to keep walking and not gawking (yes, he fell asleep on the way home and no, he does not want to go back to another one), a raccoon was hit and died on the road in front of our house and the boys wanted to turn it into a coon skin cap...it got too smooshed (phew! Thank you Mr. Truck Driver for smashing it to the pavement!), our dishwasher broke and it was filled to capacity and the stove, table and counter were waiting to be washed too (yes, we were out of EVERY dish. The boys are completely fascinated by the “old fashioned” way of washing dishes), Sadie has been diagnosed with “separation anxiety” (seriously), I told the boys that once they were going to bed they were staying there and so S4 stood at the top of the stairs and called my name a million times to tell me things like “can I get one more drink?” “I have to peeeeeeeeeeeee”, “I can't sleep” instead of actually walking down the steps to tell me...and that is just a smidgeon.

It doesn't include the hilarious stories S4 has come up with, the way S3 is smoozing the school, S2's upcoming birthday wishes and the GIANT totally cool lighthouse that S1 built and had delivered to school.

And did I mention my husband is working a totally new shift right now? That the asparagus is starting to grow? That and ENTIRE cub-hoard door fell off my kitchen cupboards and I had to find a way to make it look 'cute'? That Jr has learned to WALK?

Sigh.

So, I apologize for not blogging as often as I should. I am now taking notes to write them all down so I don't forget them all. I hate thinking “what was that that was so funny?”

And I am writing this because my dishes are drying before I can begin about three more sink fulls.

And some may think that is why my hubby would be calling me. To remind me the dishes aren't done. And then he would tell me he loves me and his is joking.....

But this is why he will call me.

Sunday night I attempted a nap. I forwent the nap when I realized it was useless (this was the 'we caught a frog', 'we caught another', 'can we keep them, we brought up the aquarium?') and decided to make coffee instead. Waiting impatiently for my super fast Bunn coffee maker to finish up, I realized it was time for church again. Now what do we do? I mean, I just made all this coffee?

So, I poured the to go cup and went to church with it. I brought it into the sanctuary even though I would normally never do such a thing. All the boys headed off to choir practice and I brought the coffee out, sure it was safe. My husband uses all sorts of old time phrases and his “nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs” fit my feelings that night. I was so keeping an eye on the coffee, making sure it wouldn't spill and trying to chug down some when the pastor was looking down at his notes like I would be kicked out of church for bringing in coffee.

Hubby, being ever so loving, leaned in to put his arm around me. How sweet. And then he stretched out is very very very very long legs and TIPPED MY COFFEE.

But I saved it! Lightening speed reflexes from caring for children saved that coffee! I held it close to me on my lap and grinned triumphantly, a 'ha! I'm so more careful than you!' look when I SPILLED MY COFFEE all over my lap, on my Bible but NOT on the pew.

It looked like I peed my pants. Really.

Sigh.

I should have just stayed asleep.

And my hubby just laughed (quietly, of course) and has been laughing ever since.

He will call me and laugh at me now.

Well, my dishes are dry enough to take care of so I am off to dish washer duty again. Last night I was on Cinderalla duty, washing floors on my hands and knees while watching a princess movie, because I was that desperate for girl time.

I miss you all, my blogger buddies.

Bemoaning a Lost Book

I am just going to bemoan this lost book out there because I keep looking for it and can't find it so maybe if I toss it out to you, one of you will know what it is called.

I THINK it was called Barefoot to Tea. But I can't find that.

I bought it at library book sale. It was old and hard covered and hardly read, you could tell by what nice condition it was in.

And I loved it.

It told the story of a young girl who meets this exotic boy whose parents owned a tea plantation. They grow up, marry, and she moves to this tea plantation. It tells their life there on the plantation, the python she thought was a log, the fear of malaria, the grass she longed for, how she hated boots to wear when she had all fancy shoes, the making of tea etc etc. It was thrilling. It ended when there was a war, and she moved to the US. I believe it to be a true story.

And, no doubt, I lent the book out. But to whom? I don't know.

And I miss this book and have searched google, the library, amazon...can't find it.

ARGH!!!!!

So, there, I have bemoaned my lost book to you.