Ok, I admit it. When it comes to reading French books, I'm lazy. My pledge to myself to read at least one French book every two weeks has slipped to one a month and sometimes one every six weeks.
However, I eat English books. Nary a week goes b when I don't swallow any where from one to three books. Sometimes at night I hold my eyes open to get to the next chapter and morning usually start with a chapter or two or three or . . . depending on the time I wake. If I beat the birds I can do more than four chapters before the day needs to start officially.
Twice a year the Library in English nestled in the American church in Geneva has been a godsend. I could never feed my habit if I had to pay transportation prices or even Kindle prices. Also, as a person who wants to own as little as possible, books are meant to be read and passed on--with only a few keepers. Had I kept every book I read in the past year or the 23 years I've been in Switzerland, I would not be able to move through the house--in fact I'm sure my housemate would have thrown me out long ago, although as a reader, she might have kept a few of my books before passing them on.
For a reasonable annual fee I get to take out six books at a time.
Two of my favourite days of the year are the library book sale where thousands of donations come out on tables (many years I help put them out but this year my back whispered none too softly I'd be crazy to lift those boxes).
Also part of the tradition is to have lunch: egg salad sandwiches, chocolate cake and a Coke or if it is later in the day, tea and cake.
It is the time to roam through the books and buy a few to help support the library. And who am I kidding. It helps support the reading habit, one addiction I have no intention of breaking.
Showing posts with label Reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reading. Show all posts
Friday, April 26, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Waking up
When I was working, one of the things I hated was jumping out of bed.
Now that I'm allegedly retired (okay, if you don't count running a business or writing books retired, I do because it is a choice) mornings have a new meaning.
I usually wake somewhere around 7:30. At this season, the outlines of the trees slowly become visible through the sheer curtains.
The bed is toasty warm under the duvets and I can read a few chapters before separating myself from the sheets.
Such luxury.
Now that I'm allegedly retired (okay, if you don't count running a business or writing books retired, I do because it is a choice) mornings have a new meaning.
I usually wake somewhere around 7:30. At this season, the outlines of the trees slowly become visible through the sheer curtains.
The bed is toasty warm under the duvets and I can read a few chapters before separating myself from the sheets.
Such luxury.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Unless
Unless by Carol Shields and the ultimate luxury of reading this book (or any) in bed before starting the day--I was enjoying her lush language, the fresh spring air coming through my window, the light playing off the trees.
Munchkin aka. Munch, the Munch, the Critter, Mouse Breath decide it was time to relate pushing herself between me and my book, marking the pages with her chin, twisting and turning and finally settling under my chin with loud purrs.
I enjoy reading in bed UNLESS there’s a cat between me and the book…but then again I enjoy the purrs.
Munchkin aka. Munch, the Munch, the Critter, Mouse Breath decide it was time to relate pushing herself between me and my book, marking the pages with her chin, twisting and turning and finally settling under my chin with loud purrs.
I enjoy reading in bed UNLESS there’s a cat between me and the book…but then again I enjoy the purrs.
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