Sentimental Reading

Books have always been a huge part of my life. I devoured everything that Children's literature had to offer until I discovered Jane Austen at 13 and then the sky was the limit. When we bought our house in 2008 it was important to us that a corner of our home reflect that passion...

Amazingly enough the bookshelves we had in our apartment were an exact fit on this wall and so one of the first things I did (after getting rid of the flea infestation) was gleefully unload my books.

Some of them were gifts, like a pearlised copy (two parts) of Hawthorne's The Marble Faun from my Mother in Law, some were awards like a copy of Pride and Prejudice from my high school. Others are just special to me, like the JT Edson westerns I picked up locally several years ago - my Grandfather always had these kicking around the house.

Of course now this quiet corner has become somewhat of a playroom. Heaven help me he walked over to my shelves the other day, reached out and said "Toba books?"

These days I am reading Anna Karenina, re-reading To Kill a Mockingbird, studying Extraordinary Women by John Macarthur and reading Goodnight Gorilla several times each day.