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My Space…

Not MySpace.

Twitter…Tweeter…Tweet Tweet.

My kind of Tweet.

As a child, much like beautiful Landon, pictured above, my Face was always in a Book.

Not Facebook.

I was a regular visitor at the Petoskey Public Library.

In those days, you were pin-drop quiet in the library. No talking, chewing, breathing or swallowing.

I loved it.

From “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn”, “Misty of Chincoteague”, to “Wild Bill Cody”, I was in Heaven.

I recall smuggling my coveted clear plastic-covered library books to “the Cottage” one summer, carefully wrapping them in a favorite pink blanket as I packed them away in my tiny suitcase. It was a delicious secret. The possibility of them going overdue during the weeks at the cottage only added to the excitement.

Yes, I was a book junkie.

And reading was my fix.

When reading, my senses were engaged.

Touching the smooth, shiny pages. Or thick heavy pages. Every book was different.

Hearing the crinkle of the plastic cover as you progressed, page by page.

The smell of the book told a story. How many years has it called the shelf its home? How many caretakers have been in charge of the story? I loved pulling the card out of the pocket on the back inside cover and imagining who read the book before me.

Seeing the words on the page, it still amazes me how a book can remove you from your current environment and take you on a journey.

Today, I can only imagine what my life would have been like ~ without my books.

Imagine trading the suspense of what lies ahead, on each next page, with the cold keyboard of a computer.

I hope Landon can hold out.

MySpace, Facebook, Tweeter/Twitter.

What does she have to look forward to?

Stick with the books, Kid.

And I don’t mean Kindle.

At our place, kindle means only one thing. Your favorite rabbit doe is about to give birth ~ kindle. Kits are on the way.

Until tomorrow ~ clinging to the past Today ~ God willing,

Woodswoman