I love books. I have hundreds of them. I have even read a couple of them.

I love turning the pages, feeling the type and looking at all the pictures. You know how autobiographies always have all the pictures in the middle of the book? That's my favorite part. After looking at all the pictures, I read the autobiography.

Every time I open a book, it's like opening a present. There is always something to be discovered, something I missed the last time. Some statement or picture that leaves an indelible mark on my consciousness, or my psyche. Something that strikes a chord with me. And I come away with some new pearl of wisdom.

Not all my books are fun to read. Some of them were a real struggle to get through, if I even managed to get through them. Books like Pathophysiology, the Biologic Basis for Disease in Adults and Children, or Fundamentals of General, Organic, and Biological Chemistry.

Some were necessary for my professional life, like Clinical Nursing Skills and Techniques and Mosby's Guide to Physical Examination. And I have several others like them, which I keep for reference in my work. But I don't spend a Saturday afternoon curled up in a comfy chair reading them.

I have been collecting the classics recently. I am reading them, or rereading them, with a friend. Books such as George Orwell's 1984, John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath, and Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird.

I have also recently purchased Shaffer and Barrows' The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. I couldn't pass up the title. I thumbed through it and loved it. So did the New York Times, so it must be good.

I love words, too, and I have a Webster's Unabridged Dictionary that is 4 ¾ inches wide. I know, most people don't measure their books, but I do. I try to arrange them by topic, too. It makes it easier to find something if it is grouped with its own kind. All my Good Dog, Carl books are together, all my nursing books are together, all my antiques reference books are together, and all my decorating books are all over the place.

I love to look at decorating books and dream. I dream about projects I will accomplish when I don't have to work so much. Places I will see when I have time to travel. Luxurious gardens I will plant when I can break away from the rat race. After the rats win, of course.

And horrors! I have started writing in my decorating books, too. There are certain pictures or concepts that really impress me, in a good way or in a not-so-good way, and I am writing notes next to them. Someday, when I am long gone, my children and grandchildren will know what I thought was pretty and what I thought was ostentatious.

I think my books say a lot about me. What interests me and what has formed my viewpoints about the world around me. Actually, I think my kids already know me pretty well.

A few years ago, I was attending a week long seminar in Nashville, TN, and I was supposed to get to go visit Graceland when the seminar was over. Well, it didn't happen. Somebody let me down. And a couple of Christmases later, my son gave me a pop-up book......of Graceland. Silly, maybe, but his way of saying that he knew how much it meant to me and how disappointed I was.

As much as I love my books, reading them is hard for me. As I get older, it is harder and harder for me to concentrate long enough to read a book. I get lost in my own thoughts and forget what I have just read. It seems that the demands of my work and life make it even more difficult to read....

I don't think it is going to be that way forever, though. I think, given a healthy dose of free time, and minimal problems to solve, I can get back to reading and enjoying my books again.

Oh, and I'm going to Graceland, someday, too....
view link

Cali