Posted in Life, Poetry, Stories, Writing

For the Love of Books

Image

I love books.  I love the look of them, the feel of them, I love their smell.  I love the excitement I feel when I crack open the first page and the adventures that await me within those pages.   I love the shiny, glossy book jacket and reading those tantalizing, teasing words on the jacket.

I learned to read and developed a love of reading at a Very young age.  I could read long before I started school  Whenever the family would take a trip I was always reading the billboards or other signs aloud to everyone on the car.  Loudly of course!  🙂

The first time I met my grandparents, on my mother’s side, I drug my Grandpa over to the couch and sat him down and read to him.  I was very proud of the fact that I could read.  I think I was about 3 years old.

My mother raised 4 of us kids mostly by herself.  She didn’t have an education to speak of, so money was tight, always.  But when I opened a book, I was transported to another place and time.  It was a fantastic way for me to entertain myself.

I would walk to the library in the summertime and bring back an armload of books every few days.  During the summer, I averaged reading about a book a day.

No matter what you read, you learn something.  I kept a dictionary handy when I was reading.  If I came across a word that I could not figure out the meaning by the context of the sentence or paragraph, I would look it up.

I still love to read, but don’t take the time to do it as much anymore.

I think my life has been much more fruitful and accomplished because of my love of reading and my learning along the way.

As a kid, I used to read everything from Shakespeare to Poe to Sci-Fi to love stories.   I love biographies.  I love learning about people like Abe Lincoln, or my favorite artists.

My 2 older brothers always had comic books in the house, which I read.  But those comics would spark my interest in people like Sherlock Holmes or Isaac Asimov.  So my taste in books has varied widely.

I have some old books that I have packed around with me for years that I just cannot part with.  One is a favorite from the 1970’s, which is beautifully illustrated about the life of Gnomes.  Another is a book, also from the 70’s called “Shut Up and Eat Your Shoe Shoes!”  It’s a hilarious true story about a couple that homesteads in Alaska.  I also have some rare, old Tarzan books that I may pass down to my eldest grandson some day.

These books evoke wonderful memories of a simpler time for me.

I still have a stack of books on my night stand that are gathering dust.  Maybe it’s time to crack open one of them and make a new friend….

Copyright (C) Penny Wilson

Posted in Prose, Stories

The Threshold

*A favorite Blast From the Past for you. I hope you enjoy! 🙂

Penny Wilson Writes

Doorway-to-my-soul-500x375

I saw it just on the other side of the meadow.  The sun was in the east, yet it did not shine here.

Carefully, I made my way across the dew laden grass.  I didn’t dare blink, lest it disappear.  Ignoring the chill of my bare feet, I approached as quietly as I could.

Was this it?  It had been so long since I’d seen it, I wasn’t sure.  Sometimes it would appear just on the edge of my peripheral vision, vanishing when I looked directly at it.  Other times it was like a warm hug, enveloping my entire being.

There has been a time when The Threshold was within me, barely restrained, bursting at the seams to get out and into the light of day.

Standing before it, I reached out a tentative, trembling hand.  What would it hold this time?  What magic lay on the other side?

I…

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Posted in Life, Poetry, Stories, Writing

For the Love of Books

Image

I love books.  I love the look of them, the feel of them, I love their smell.  I love the excitement I feel when I crack open the first page and the adventures that await me within those pages.   I love the shiny, glossy book jacket and reading those tantalizing, teasing words on the jacket.

Needless to say, I do not own an e-reader.  I have no use for one.   I love books.  Real.  Books.

I learned to read and developed a love of reading at a Very young age.  I could read long before I started school.

Whenever the family would take a trip I was always reading the billboards aloud to everyone on the car.  Loudly of course!  🙂

The first time I met my grandparents, on my mother’s side, I drug my Grandpa over to the couch and sat him down and read to him.  I was very proud of the fact that I could read.  I think I was about 3 years old.

My mother raised 4 of us kids mostly by herself.  She didn’t have an education to speak of, so money was tight, always.

But when I opened a book, I was transported to another place and time.  It was a fantastic way for me to entertain myself.

I would walk to the library in the summertime and bring back an armload of books every few days.  During the summer, I averaged reading about a book a day.

No matter what you read, you learn something.  I kept a dictionary handy when I was reading.  If I came across a word that I could not figure out the meaning by the context of the sentence or paragraph, I would look it up.

I still love to read, but don’t take the time to do it as much anymore.

I think my life has been much more fruitful and accomplished because of my love of reading and my learning along the way.

I used to read everything from Shakespeare to Poe to Sci-Fi to love stories.   I love biographies.  I love learning about people like Abe Lincoln, or my favorite artists.

My 2 older brothers always had comic books in the house, which I read.  But those comics would spark my interest in people like Sherlock Holmes or Isaac Asimov.  So my taste in books has varied widely.

I have some old books that I have packed around with me for years that I just cannot part with.  One is a favorite from the 1970’s, which is beautifully illustrated about the life of Gnomes.  Another is a book, also from the 70’s called “Shut Up and Eat Your Shoe Shoes!”  It’s a hilarious true story about a couple that homesteads in Alaska.  I also have some rare, old Tarzan books that I may pass down to my eldest grandson some day.

These books evoke wonderful memories of a simpler time for me.

I still have a stack of books on my night stand that are gathering dust.  Maybe it’s time to crack open one of them and make a new friend….