One Thing: Where I share one thing that is making my life better or bringing me joy.
I love our library. Just a few miles from our house (2.1 to be exact), I have dreams of me and Fiona biking down to the library to five into books or story time or star gazing nights.
Just one of the branches of the Suffolk Public Library, Chuckatuck is easily the smallest permanent library I’ve ever seen, just 2,000 sq ft. And the cutest. The building was formerly the cafeteria of Chuckatuck High School (the building that is now Sauders Supply) and in 1989 it was given new life as a library.
It has everything a library needs: books, a librarian, a few computers, WiFi access, and a children’s section where littles like Fiona are invited to stay a while. Mondays (not every Monday, but maybe once or twice a month) are now my library day. The library is generally only open during working hours on weekdays, but it is also open on Monday evenings. Read more →
Today I am thankful for books. I’m not sure what it is that mesmerizes me about the written word, but there is something that I am powerless to contend. I love books. I love old books, new books, used books, children’s books, fiction books, non-fiction books…
I grew up surrounded by parents and siblings who all love to read and on top of that, with shelves and shelves full of books. I thought our house was normal, but I can’t tell you the number of friends I had over who were amazed at the sheer volume of books we had! (It’s a good thing my dad knows how to make shelves…)
Husband is slightly dismayed by the number of books I have. He doesn’t like having to move them. I do understand that books are heavy, but I remind Husband that he has a lot of cook books and those are some weighty volumes! And besides, he has at least as much “kitchen stuff” as I have books and it is only fitting since he is a chef and I am a writer.
Did you know that I was writing stories before I could even write? Yep, I would staple pieces of paper together and create stories using stickers. I finished my first short work of fiction when I was nine. And now I actually make a living at it.
My books are integral to my ability to write. Every good writer must be a reader as well, it’s simply how it works. And when Husband suggests I sell some of my beloved collection I give him the evil-eye. These books are my friends, they are my memories, my adventures.
I once heard someone put it this way: I have fallen in love a hundred times, and each time has been in a book.