I’m feeling blue... not the color blue, ‘cause then I’d be
happy since it’s one of my fav colors. Maybe it’s more like sad or melancholy.
Why you ask (you’re such a nice person I just know you’d wonder what’s wrong)?
It’s because I just read a book call ‘Voracious’ by Cara
Nicoletti. Don’t get me wrong, the book is really good and I liked it a lot.
It’s just that as I read my way thru the chapters about books she read as a
child and the recipes they inspired it brought back memories of how my parents were of the opinion that school
was for learning how to read so why should they teach me. All that ended up
doing was to teach me what it was to be embarrassed at a very early age and
increase the panic attacks I had since I was a toddler. Yeah, I know that seems
pretty early to say I was having severe panic but it’s true.
Once I did learn to read and had read every book in my
classroom library (every class had their own shelves of books deemed correct
for that grade) 3 or more times, my parents didn’t think to take me to the town
library for more books to read. When I reached 2nd grade the teacher
decided to make getting a library card a homework assignment. I still remember
my Dad taking me and having to lift me up because I was so short and the
counter was so high. But the memory is bittersweet though ‘cause even though I
now had something that I truly treasured I didn’t get to use it until much
later.
I still can’t understand why these two people who read
newspapers (sometimes 2 a day) and subscribed to a wide variety of magazines
(usually 6-8) were so unsettled by the library they avoided it. I asked my Mom
about it and got the impression it was the multitude of books and not knowing
where to start. She also seemed to feel that she just wouldn’t fit in. For a
fairly smart person with a great memory she has no confidence. As for Dad he
always said the reading room where the newspapers and magazines were kept was
too crowded. Truth is it usually was.
When I reached 7th grade and was walking to town by
myself I started going to the library, too. Soon I was calling for a ride home because
the stack of books I checked out was so large. Dad and I developed a system of
when he had errands around town, I’d go along to go the library and stay there
till he came in and got me. To this day I love to go to any of the local
libraries. Even after reading an e-book I’ll often look for the printed version
at one of the libraries.
Whoa, I really got off track. Now the reason this book
(Voracious) made me blue was because I never got to read some of the books she
writes about as a kid. I tend to get very upset I never read Winnie the Pooh as
a child. Think it’s really weird the school didn’t have it and it’s not in
Cara’s book . Anne of Green Gables and
the Little House on the Prairies weren’t in the school library either and that’s
really surprising too. Some of her favs I did read in school but it still makes
me sad I missed so many good books back then.
One happy memory I do have was when my parents bought me Dr.
Seuss books, the Bobbsey Twins (which only made me want a twin so much I made
up one and called her Suzie. My parents thought this was hilarious), and a lot
of others. But I’m still sad for all the ones I didn’t have as a child and reading
them as an adult hasn’t helped this feeling go away.
I’m jealous of people like Cara who talk about going home as
an adult to find their childhood books either still on shelves or packed away
where they can get them. My Mom knowing that we were a bit better off than
other family members was a big believer that when you out grew anything
(clothes, toys, and books) you gave it away to someone who could use it. When I
got married and she saw my husband still had many of his childhood books she
apologized for giving mine away knowing I would have cherished them. It was
nice but it didn’t fill the hole they left. I guess if I had a kid I would have
bought all the books I loved and lots of new ones but I don’t so I didn’t.
I’m also jealous of kids whose parents read them to sleep.
My Mom was more the “I’ll sing a song or we’ll recite nursery rhymes” type. She
didn’t have the patience to read me to sleep. She knew a book would only keep
me awake as I would want just one more chapter, then another, and another. Just
like now when I’ll end up reading all night or until J. comes out and grumbles
at me for still being up. This is why even though I love regular books my Nook
comes in handy. With the light up screen I can read in the dark and if I hear
him getting up I just put the nook face down and hope he thinks I fell asleep
in the living room because I was too sick to come to bed (I have a lot of
stomach distress). Crap, I’m an adult and I’m still acting like a kid with a
flashlight under the covers. Wonder how old you have to be to stop feeling
guilty about staying up reading when you should be in bed?
Just a few of my books. BTW, they're 2 deep on the shelves and there's more shelves with more books. Gotta stop going to library book sales.
