Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve devoured books. I don’t ever remember my mother reading to me (although I’m sure she did), I only remember hiding under the covers with a torch and reading long after I should have been asleep.
I love to read. One of the most distressing things that happened when my husband died, was I could no longer read. I seemed to have lost the ability to concentrate, to hold a particular thought in my head long enough to connect another to it. Fortunately, the skill returned about a year later.
The first gift my lover bought me was a book. You can see what title he chose here.
I still read every night before I go to sleep. I keep going until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. It’s the only way to turn off the storm of thoughts in my head. Well, maybe not the only way, and maybe I don’t read every night — sometimes I’m too shagged (literally).
I am thankful that I enjoy reading, and that books continue to open up a world of truth and fantasy that I wouldn’t encounter anywhere else.
Even now, I check the back of the wardrobe to make sure it isn’t snowing in there …
Do you love to read?
What was your favourite book from your childhood?