Friday Flashback

This morning I finished my third book of the summer, The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. Fabulous book, if you haven't read it, do. I've got a few more books stacked up waiting too, oooh, much fun!

When I was about the age my older kids are now, I loved and hated summer. I hated the heat - I suffered from migraines already by the time I was 10 and the humid stillness and screaming cicadas made many summer afternoons tortuous. But on other days, when the other kids were outside riding or running or playing (or stealing ATVs with the pastor's son as it turns out) I was hiding out with a book. In my room, by the creek, out in the camper, down in the cool damp basement, I devoured books.

Thursday night was grocery night and I'd beg to be dropped off at the library in town so I could stock up for the next 7 days. When we went on vacation (camping) I always brought along an extra bag full of books to read. In the camper, at the picnic table, on the dunes, at the beach. Always with a book.

I couldn't tell you the names of any of my most favourite books - I rarely read anything more than once, though Madeleine L'Engle was a favourite author. In high school I was introduced to Canadian Literature, and oh, they were all mine - Margaret Atwood, Sinclair Lewis, Margaret Lawrence, Leonard Cohen, Stephen Leacock, Mordecai Richler, Gabrielle Roy and later Michael Ondaatje, Rohinton Mistry, and Susannah Moodie.

Spending free time reading the past few weeks has been energizing, invigorating. I probably *ought* to sew something, or knit something, clean, cook, weed or water something. But I'd rather go hide somewhere with a book.