It's been nice to have questions to rely on to get me through some bloggy posts because mostly all I've been wanting to write about is how my whole body aches from the severe coughing I do every minute, and how I only take NyQuil on Thursday nights because that's the night that the girls stay with my parents, so I don't have to worry about the sleep coma NyQuil puts me in, which explains why I slept in until 10:30 this morning.
(And I know I risk whatever sympathy you might have had for me regarding the coughing by admitting I slept in until 10:30 this morning, but it so nice to not wake up coughing in the middle of the night. Goodbye until next Thursday, sweet NyQuil.)
So, yes. The coughing. I don't like it. The end.
Gretchen from Lifenut asked, "What is your favorite word? The book with the most broken spine/most underlined passages in your vast collection?"
I have a hard time coming up with a favorite word. Favorite word to use on a regular occurrence? "Lovely." It's such a versatile word, usable in almost all occasions depending on the tone I use. I think I say "lovely" most every day. A favorite word just to say for sheer fun, but never having a reason to use it? Loquacious. I never say it, except when I read it, then I have to say it aloud because it's such word candy.
As for books with broken spines/underlined passages, I will dutifully exclude ones I studied in my graduate courses. They have marks and comments and dog-eared pages galore, but I don't think they reveal much about my reading habits except my tendency to use lots of support for academic papers.
From my personal collection, the book with the most broken spine/most underlined passage would definitely be The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien. Wow. What a book.
After compulsively reading it every year from 1999-2003, I haven't read it as a parent. It's emotionally hard stuff, though incredibly written. The book, set in Vietnam during the war, is not exactly a memoir, but not exactly fiction either. O'Brien does an amazing job telling a story that pieces together parts of his experience with experiences that belonged to others. One chapter in particular, which I used often in the classroom to talk about "literary truth," perfectly captures the way truth is shared in books, how story-telling can create a different kind of truth. It's quite beautiful.
*sigh* All this book talk makes me miss my books.
All two-dozen boxes of my books are still away in storage, waiting for us to unpack them when we have a house to put them in. Even though I have made good use of our local library, I still miss my books. Sure library books are free, but I don't underline in library books. I don't doodle on library books. They're good for reading, and they're good for budget-keeping, but still.
I miss being surrounded by my books, miss my organization method (books organized not alphabetically, but by genre), miss being able to pick up an old favorite and read my favorite chapter.
Ah, well. Soon enough I'll have my library and barn doors. And soon enough next fall will arrive, complete with a book unboxing party. What a reunion--what a lovely reunion--it will be.
Ah, well. Soon enough I'll have my library and barn doors. And soon enough next fall will arrive, complete with a book unboxing party.
What a reunion--what a lovely reunion--it will be.