February 16, 2014

Today was extremely busy. Lots of heavy lifting, sweating and swearing.

All I want to do right now is curl up in bed with a book and decompress.  I have several books to choose from. Do I read a “real” book? Bust out my Nook? Listen to an audio book?  Sometimes I do all three; I’m working on several stories right now.

My girls are book freaks, too. The 13YO decided to go through the kids books this weekend and set aside those that deserved to be shared. I spotted two of the books that I read to my girls in the pile and nearly had a cow: Sometimes I Like to Curl Up in a Ball by Vicki Churchill and My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss.  Each of these are perfectly illustrated and hold some of the dearest memories of my early days of Motherhood.

Oh, no. Those aren’t going anywhere.

But I was struck by their changing tastes.  The Junie B books that my youngest wouldn’t dare let me consider sharing was now freely in a box. There were Rainbow Fairies, Judy Moody and Stink.

Memories.

It’s a bittersweet thing, seeing these books ready to be given to new homes. Hey, wait…what’s that World of Fairies book doing in that stack?!?

Day 47, hoarding.

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