Some of my blogging friends have running lists of what they read.
I don't.
I read.
A lot.
I've always read. My mother banned books from the dinner table when I was a kid (something I still struggle with today, even though I know it is impolite and a bad habit). I started reading somewhere around 3 or 4.
My first book: Yertle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss. My dad read it to me all the time, but by an early age, I didn't have it memorized. I knew how to read from it.
I read to other kids in kindergarten. I'd read in the family car on long trips. I'd read on weekends, nice or not outside, to my parents' chagrin. My mom put a limit of 20 books on me per checkout of the library during the summer.
I still read on trips. I try to read to my kids. Right now my son's favorite is Harry the Dirty Dog (he and Harry have a lot in common). My youngest's favorite is Easter Bugs by David A. Carter. (or any of his books. She loves his pop-ups.)
My eldest isn't a reader. It baffles me. She doesn't read fiction. She's like her dad; she'll read nonfiction. If the topic interests her. Right now, she's plowing through our Calvin and Hobbes collection during spring break.
I consider that a good sign, both for her perspective on life and our parenting skills.
I haven't updated the books side in a while. I've read a lot of great books, and a lot of trash--love my romance novels, I do. But I'm a lazy wench, and editing code takes more time than I have.
But this time, I've added a few well worth reading. Take the time and read them, then let me know what you think.
3 comments:
Oh no, The Handmaiden's Tale brings back horrible horrible memories of a class I took in women's studies at Mizzou. Second worse class I ever took there. First one was in Peace Studies. And, here I thought I was a liberal.
Ah, but I suspect it is much better if you don't have a deconstructionist feminist TA trying to tell you what to think while reading it.
and, living where I live now, it is horrifying to see how close some folks are to starting that holy war and trying to win it.
I, too, took a Women's Studies class at Mizzou. (It was cross-referenced with Philosophy.) It was a big waste of dollars and time. We never read anything by anyone cool like Margaret Atwood. Oh, no. We read Freud for the first half of the semester, and then we read Luce Irigaray's criticism of Freud for the second half. Ugh.
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