Skip to main content

Bibliophile Familia

I am no foreigner to the various names one calls a lover of books:  bibliophile, bookworm, nerd, etc.  I am guilty on all accounts.  El Hubbo quickly realized early in our marriage that books were to me as crack was to an addict.  My dealer's name was Barnes and Noble.   While this makes me an interesting Trivial Pursuit partner, it can dent the old pocketbook if one is not careful. 

El Hubbo put me on a strict book budget, and I had to resort to nefarious means to get my fix - including using my children.  All gift-giving occasions give me an excuse to head to my dealer to "pick something up for them" - and, of course, sneak in a book or two for mama.  On the occasion of their birthday or for very special rewards, they get to actually go visit the dealer with their mama - and of course, mama usually gets something special too.  It works for me.

I will read ANYTHING.  Almost.  I do draw the line at racy novels.  But I am no respecter of most genres - I love westerns, mysteries, romance, classics, fiction and non-fiction, action, spy-adventure, humor, true crime, general fiction, children's, short story, etc.  I am absolutely COMPULSED to read.  I have been known to have three to four books going at the same time - one kept by the bed, one in my purse, one in the car and one in my office.  The invention of the Nook and iPad have only exacerbated this little problem of mine as now literally thousands of books are at my fingertips at any given time.

You just never know when you may have a spare second to squeeze in a couple paragraphs.  Waiting in a long line at the "fast food drive through"?  No problem.  Stuck in a non-moving traffic on the freeway?  Covered.  (Granted, not a problem for me much anymore now that I've left the big city for west Texas.)  Sitting in the doctor's office?  I'm set.  Get the idea?

So, you can imagine how thrilled I am to see my addiction has been genetically passed on.  Jake, as a kindergartner, has become a book fan and has begun emulating his mother's tendency to carry books about.  The other night, he turned the overhead light on in the car and read his sister a book as we were driving home from church.  He gets super excited everytime the teacher sends home another book order form - and he knows to bypass dad and head straight to his enabling mother. 

The school sent home the fourth book order of the year the other day.  Jake was ready for me when I picked him up - he had already gone through the twenty-one pages of book listings and identified his first round selections by circling them with a pen.  Knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to convince even his bibliophile mother to get him ALL of his first-round picks, he had gone through and narrowed the choices to his top 16.  I was so proud as I reviewed his choices and found the type of diversity that reassures me that there is no doubt he is my son.  Everything from a book called Remembering the Titanic, to a children's historical book about Abe Lincoln were included.  Of course, all good boys need Star Wars, Pokemon, and Power Rangers books.  And, his curious nature comes out with a couple selections on worms and spiders.  (Although I can probably do without his becoming too fond of spiders.)

All signs point to Emma also having this ailment.  She loves to look at books and will make up stories for the pictures she sees.  I fear that El Hubbo will have to get a second job to support his family's habit.  I would be willing, but I have all these books to read, and so there just isn't time to get another job.  And, don't be fooled - he reads at least half of the books I read - which means he may manage his addiction slightly better, but he is not innocent!  (Addicts love to point out the faults of others.)  Well, gotta go - I just picked up a new book on Grace O'Malley - Ireland's Pirate Queen - I'm pretty sure it will be chock-full of useless information.  I can't wait!! 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Texas, Our Texas!

Fires, tornadoes, drought, and now a hurricane.  It has been a rough time for our Lone Star State. I felt like she needed a love letter. Early in the year, fires in the panhandle had trucks come up the highways and interstates providing assistance to panhandle families who had lost family, herds, fences, and feed. Now, in the wake of Harvey, those trucks have been turned around, and the Panhandle sends them back full to the coastal families who now find themselves in need.  (Our mamas taught us you never return a dish empty.)  Our hearts ache for our fellow Texans on the coast.  We know too well the feeling of loss.   Regardless of the challenges ahead of us, we Texans generally manage to rise to the occasion.  We don't have time to worry about those things that really don't matter.  We have a job to do.  I'm proud of my state and her residents.  Those of us who trace our lineage back to the very founding of this Great State have had...

Medical Sparring

My father.  The infamous Oso.  The Bear. Just as when one is dealing with his spirit animal, one should always proceed with caution with my paternal parental unit.  Not everyone is ready for his wit and charm, but doctors in particular seem to struggle with quite how to deal with the man. In Oso's not-so-humble opinion doctors are by-and-large "quacks".  The many years of medical training they have is bunk, and they have no idea what they are talking about.  He has stretched the patience of more than one member of the AMA, leading one to proclaim my father "the most non-compliant patient I have ever seen."  And, this particular doctor used to be a prison doctor!  That statement actually exists in a medical chart.  It also happen to provide my father with a peculiar point-of-pride.  In his mind, this meant he won. With mom's passing, I have inherited the dubious honor of accompanying my father to the more important doctor visits.  W...

Sometimes, Life Ain't Fair

I generally try to keep my blog relatively light-hearted.  I poke fun at myself and my loved ones because I think it helps to keep perspective.  Sometimes we take ourselves too seriously, and we just need a reminder that life is pretty good in the grand scheme of things. But sometimes, life ain't fair. What follows is an honest, heart-felt post.  It will not be easy to read at times.  Consider yourself warned.  There are no such things as safe spaces in my world. Few outside of an FFA or 4H program understand "why" we show livestock.   Sadly, the concept of raising livestock, having any kind of inkling or understanding of how and where one's food comes from (besides the grocery store) is foreign to most, even some of you who follow this blog.  (I love you anyway, but sometimes I worry about you.) There is a fascination with our lifestyle, and I generally become the defacto ag teacher in work meetings as I explain what my kids were doing in rece...