No, my problem is not finding time to read (I'll carve it out of my own eyeball, if I have to.)<— That made sense. Yes, it did.
The problem is also not about finding books to read. See exhibit A (through G):
Since I only ever buy books that I L-O-V-E, and since I'm a serial re-reader owing to the fact that I have a memory like a Kleenex diaper, I've got plenty of material that I can go back to again (and again, and again, and again...)
I also have a lovely library less than a block away that still has all the books I used to read (again and again and again) when I was younger and lived here. Also, the women there know me and my kids, I went to high school with one of them, and some of them read this blog (Hi.) They are fabulous.
No, my reading problem begins and ends with this woman:
You see, it might not be apparent to you, if you're blind in one eyeball or if your computer doesn't turn on on Saturdays, but this Leslie woman is a zealous proselytizer for Robert Jordan's epic(ly long) series Wheel of Time.
And - sneaky, sneaky - she bought me the first book and sent it to me in the mail.
And now that I have to read the whole series, and just finished book three (that she brought with her to lend me - read: "ensure the first free taste really took hold" - the last time she visited), I find that my library (which I otherwise love, obviously) doesn't have books four and five, which are listed - somewhat foolishly, in my opinion - as "reported returned".
Now I have to wait however long it takes for book four to get here from some other town. And I have to read something while I wait.
Suddenly, my collection is feeling a little on the sparse side.
This time last year: My To-Do List
