Who said I should (could or would) only invite book bloggers to write guest posts for me? Amy from Amy's Fibro Thoughts is both a blogger and a book lover which, quite frankly, is all it takes to be a welcome guest blogger here!
My maternal grandfather was a bookworm. We bought him books for birthdays, Christmas, and Father’s Day. He was the easiest person to shop for. Yet I don’t remember where he kept all the books- they never had a ‘library’ in the house, and I don’t remember shelves filled with books. He passed his love of reading to me, and I am doing my best to pass it to the next generation.
I started reading at age 3. I don’t know how I did it. I know people were always reading stories to me, and I suspect Grandpa had something to do with my early reading. Books have always been a part of my life. As a child, Mom loaded us into our little red wagon and pulled us down to the town library once a week. On the way home, I had to walk next to the wagon because I had filled my side with books. When we went to the mall, I could spend hours in the bookstore.
I’ve never been much of an outdoors person. When my parents were working in the garden or the yard, I always volunteered to stay in by the phone. My father was on-call a lot, and this was in the days before answering machines and cordless phones. You couldn’t hear the phone ringing in the house if you were deep in the garden. So I stayed inside, which kept me from getting sunburnt and allowed me to stick my nose in another book.
I was always the biggest bookworm around, until I met my housemate, Erich. He reads so much that it makes me look like I never read. When we first dated, I didn’t know what to think when we went out for dinner and he pulled a book out of his pocket and started reading. I was a little offended, like perhaps he thought I wasn’t good company. Then I realized that’s just the way he is. He always has a book with him. He’ll start one book, put it down, and then grab another one as he goes into his room. There are frequently books all over our house- because he sets them down wherever he is. One of the rooms in our house is set up like a library- bookshelves everywhere. You just walk through the stacks of books. And they are all his books. The library is on the second floor of the house, and the ceiling of our living room actually started to sag due to the weight of the books. So he’s been going through them and getting rid of them.
On a recent Monday morning at the office, my boss asked me how my weekend was. I told him it was great. He asked if I did anything exciting, and I said ‘no, it was quiet. I was able to get a lot of reading done’. He looked at me like I was the weirdest person on earth. That’s when it hit me: bookworms are wired differently, and the only people who get us are fellow bookworms!