So, when I was out of college I traveled around Europe with a backpack and stayed at pensions where one could exchange books for free, as in give a book, get a book. It was a worthy service.
Yesterday I went to a book box in a local neighborhood and got two books. Today, I returned with four to donate, but got a further two. Whoopsie, I’ll have to donate four back. That is just my theory. I like donating to this volunteer service because I grew up reading books since age four and tend to collect said items.
Before age eight I had read Death Be Not Proud and The Diary of Anne Frank. Now my eyes are failing. The school went to phonics and two of us were already reading so we had to sit in the back of the room and read our own tomes. His were about baseball and mine were history, horses, ballet, whatever I could get my hands on from the local library. It was slim pickin’s in a village of 400. My sister and I couldn’t get our hands on a play we could or wished to put on for the family (we actually issued tickets) so we started with dear Charlie Brown. I was always Lucy and young brother was Snoopy. My younger sister was anyone else.
Three things my mother did for me, she gave me life, she averted the Catholic school the Church wanted to send me to, and she talked to the principal to assure that I would not be forced to learn phonics as I’d known how to read for years as I taught my sister when she was four years old. God bless her for those gifts.
With the internet and blogs I read much less. Yesterday I picked up a baby board book I gave to a neighbor and a novel, then donated two novels, a picture book and a cooking book. Today, for my husband I picked up Opera For Dummies, I’ve yet to take him to one but I did get him to see the ballet, once. Also, a gourmand’s cookbook which I’ve yet to open since it’s been less than an hour since I walked there and I had to check on our old dog and run some laundry.
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Love, love, love. The Beatles. I just washed a white Old Navy denim jacket that did not come out pristine, I used Zout on the cuffs and neck. I’m drying it on a hanger and will probably use more Zout and then bleach it tomorrow, when I throw in some of my husband’s t-shirts he only uses on weekends, stained with tomato sauce from his brief culinary expeditions into spaghetti and meatball land. At least we can use these white items for dog-walking….
Anyway, my loved one’s mother blinged out this jacket and I’ve LO VE on the back and just found an iron-on love in script. One more and I’ll have a Beatles song along the back. I’m sure a local artist will love that. The jacket even has a peace sign on she sewed onto one sleeve. Thanks to M, this jacket is art so I’ll have to make sure it is fully clean before adding anything else. Of course I only wash it buttoned and turned inside-out and then hang it to dry. It is almost spring, with peace and love, Dee