>they gave me bookmarks

>When I was a kid, I decided I liked pigs.  Not pigs on a farm necessarily, but cute sweet stuffed animal pigs.  I guess I noted that one Christmaslistmaking season. For the next…ten years I got some form of some pig for every birthday and Christmas.  By the time I was in high school, I had to ask my family, politely (I thought, but who knows how it came out) to please stop giving me pigs. I had stuffed pigs, ceramic pigs, glass pigs, a pig door stop…

 for a long time, people gave me bookmarks.  I never used them, but I collected them and liked to hold them and stare. Like stickers — more useful, but I always ended up dog-earring my book pages or cracking the spine and letting the book I was reading fall to the floor beside my bed.

I used to read a lot when I was younger, and I’ve let life get in the way– I’m only to blame, yes, and I don’t read as much as I’d like to report.  
I found three bookmarks tonight, and shoved two into books I’m currently reading.  it was kind of fun.  One has a quote about being nice to people, the other says “snap out of it.”  good advice for me.
Welcome 2009! Here’s to a non boring but very good peaceful year.  ah ha!  
Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to >they gave me bookmarks

  1. Nancy says:

    >I didn’t know you had a blog… can I stalk you? And comment? And… will you stalk me and comment on mine?! And can I put you on the list of things I’m reading?

  2. Jessica says:

    >i try not to be jealous of my childhood when i used to read ALL the time! and of all the great bookmarks i had…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s