Cleaning out the basement doesn’t yield much discovery these days. Though we’ve lived in our house for coming on nine years this November, I’m proud to report more items have made their way out than in; even with three girls underfoot.
The boxes my husband and I just can’t get rid of - text books from university- are slowly making their way to recycling. But it’s hard to part ways with monoliths from biology classes that cost upwards of $100 when you bought them new in the 90s, or a library of Shakespearian plays with your prized notes written in the columns.
Even though I know, like the plays themselves, my notes are timeless and will help future thespians through high school lit, it’s time to face the music: if I’m not going to crack open Word Carving, Great Stories from the Prairies, or anything that involves dissecting plays, as in theatrical productions, what makes me think someone else under this roof will?
The same can be said for the myriad of tennis, gymnastics and biology textbooks belonging to a certain male member of our household.
Betcha can’t guess what our majors were.
The box I unearthed this afternoon was filled with novels from my teen years. And though none of my girls understood how delicious it was to hold up books written by Eric Wilson, Christopher Pike, and Brian Doyle, they were curious to know what a Choose Your Own Adventure book was like, and were keen to listen to chapter one, book #2, of The Babysitter’s Club: Claudia and the Phantom Phone Calls.
Side note: I always related the most to Claudia, the artist, who liked to eat red licorice while she read Nancy Drew mysteries. Like Claudia, I too drooled over a boy or two in grade seven, so we might wait another year or so before Miss Q dives into the series.
Same with Sweet Valley High, for now way beyond the trio’s scope, but one day I hope they sit with Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield for a summer or two.
And while on the subject of books, there has been a great metamorphosis in our house this summer: Miss Q has turned into a bonafide bookworm. She’s always enjoyed being read to, but now she’s taking it to an all new level and curling up with a book – alone.
The amazing part isn’t that she’s inhaling books, it’s that she’s comprehending what she’s reading. “Do you want to hear something hilarious?” she begins, then without waiting for a response, out rolls a detailed description of the plot and crazy characters she’s stumbled upon.
My husband is re-reading her book two of Harry Potter at bedtime. They’ve gone up to book four, and now they’re doing it all again. He doesn’t mind. Whatever the girls bring him, he reads with little complaint, he’s amazing like that.
Other children’s books on our July radar are:
- Ivy and Bean – Miss S
- Junie B Jones - Miss S
- Franny K. Stein – Miss S
- Anything with monkeys – Miss S. Tonight I read her Chimpansneeze
- Anything Pinkalicious - both Miss S and Miss C
- Anything she picks off our bookshelf – Miss C
Meanwhile in adult-land:
My husband is currently working his way through book five of Harry Potter, and has now deemed Harry too angry for Miss Q’s ears, at least this summer. He really wants to sink his teeth into book two and three of the Gentlemen Bastard Series by Scott Lynch, but had started Harry Potter before he received them, so now he must read quickly.
As for me, I haven’t had much time for reading, not because of the stereotypical obvious; but because after nine years, three babies, and two major re-writes at the suggestion of editors, one of the novels I’ve been chipping away at is complete.
Maybe in August as I’m waiting for a publisher to bite, I’ll have added something more than P.B. Bear to my summer reading list.
What are you reading?