I've always enjoyed reading. I remember many, many nights where my parents would walk past my room, open the door, and tell me to "put away the book." Most nights I would feign sleep, and then pull out again to read until all hours of the night. Family beach trips each summer were a perfect combination of swimming and reading with very little responsibility in between. Even now, my perfect vacation centers on a beach and a book.
Obviously being a mother of three has cut down on my reading time. My days are usually busy, and the book supply isn't very steady. I have a secret and deeply abiding love for fantasy, young adult and regular kind. As our earthly possessions are judged by weight, however, I can't usually justify purchasing pounds and pounds of books that I'll only ever read once. And I don't have the time anyway.
But now that we're on evacuation, circumstances have changed. I left Kathleen's school materials in Cairo and the easel didn't fit into my suitcase very well, so my days are much more open than usual. So I marched everyone down to the library within the first week of our arrival, and I've been in heaven ever since.
I just finished the latest thousand-page behemoth, and my life is returning to order again. I folded two day-old laundry this afternoon, and have returned to reading (and writing) blogs again. My children had craft time (a first!) and stories today. And I even vacuumed the carpet underneath our table.
But it's only a breath of air until I plunge into another book. A lot of things about this evacuation aren't my favorite. But I'm not complaining about the books.