I am on a much-needed vacation right now (two weeks!), and am at my parents' home in Southern California. My parents moved into this house when I was in college, so although it's in the same city where I lived for five years before leaving for school (eight grade through high school), I never actually lived in this house, except for a few summers. But I still have "my" room, and I still have my stuff. The books on my shelves are an odd mixture of books--I'm not sure how they all ended up here, but every time I'm home I do enjoy perusing the shelves and remembering the books I read as a kid and teen and young adult. The lower shelves are mostly the books I read for school in college, but the upper shelves are the books from when I was younger. Here's a sampling of one shelf. I love the absolute randomness, from fantasy to science fiction, to romance, to classics, more movie and TV tie-in books than I realized I read, and to the Cheerleaders series, the books Grace and I shared because of the Asian-American character featured.
What I was really looking for on the shelves this time was the book Baby Island by Carol Ryrie Brink (the author is better-known as writing Caddie Woodlawn, another book I loved as a child). A few weekends ago, while at the beach with Libby, I put my fingers in the sand and remembered the scene where one of the girls pondered if sand could perhaps be used as a substitute for baby powder. (Don't worry, she didn't actually try it.) This is the cover of the book I owned:
One thing I really miss in my life is re-reading books I love. I reread books all the time as a kid. I'm sure I've read Baby Island at least three times. Perhaps I should allow myself to reread at least one book each year without feeling guilty that I'm not reading something new and not reading submissions. I think it would be good for my soul. If only I could find Baby Island while on vacation! I'd read that.