Bookishness

I once was an extreme bookworm… the type who always had a book handy, on the bus, walking home from school, late into the night… I just had my nose in a book most of the time.

Something happened to that. Motherhood, Adulthood. I still tried and when I first homeschooled it gave me the excuse of catching up on the childhood classics that I had somehow missed. Anne of Green Gables, The entire Laura Ingalls series, the “boys” classics such as Robinson Crusoe and The Last of The Mohicans.

That last one is an all-time favorite, now. If I were a book, I would choose that one. I would definitely not choose some of the reading matter of my teens, like Dostoyevsky. I retain the thinking, but those books are entirely too painful. They dig into the dark side, you know? But the Last of the Mohicans has the scenery and the nobility, along with romance of thinking that appeals to me. Were there ever any better men than Uncas and Chingachgook? Plus it had some really far out characters and that appeals to me, too. I tried reading this book for a book report in school at some point, but couldn’t get through it and fudged. Easy enough for me to do ( just give the teacher what they want-skim through and get the high points). But when I wanted my children to read as many of the classics as possible I bought the books, and then stayed up all night, because I couldn’t put them down.

A guide I found very helpful was called Honey For A Child’s Heart. An old book, and I am sure there are better ones now, but it guided my choices at the library, where there are scads of children’s books, and no compass to judge them by. ( Plus, as most mommies know you are keeping one eye on an erring child or two and anxious to get to your favored section and hoping that you can get it all done in the time frame of errands before you….)

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