The Leen

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**Picture coming in the morning; it’s late and dark and I need to go to bed.

My love of books has been with me for as long as I can remember. Some of my earliest memories have to do with reading, at first picture books, and later chapter books.

When my sister was born, my parents gave me a Sesame Street book called The Case of the Missing Duckie. I loved that book. The images in it still stick in my head even today…the part where Cookie Monster is frosting a cake (messily!) was my favorite page and I used to look at it for what seemed like hours.

When I was probably 5 or 6, I remember being extremely angry with my sister for something she’d done. So what did I do? I went to our room and shut myself in and just read and read until I felt better. (I specifically remember reading The Cat in the Hat that day.)

The first chapter book I ever read was Ramona the Brave, when I was in Mrs. Lowry’s first grade class. Oh, I loved that book. I loved Ramona’s spunk, and I loved that it was set in the town where I lived. I always wanted to go to Klickitat Street, but I never did. Maybe next time I’m in Portland I’ll do that — or maybe I’ll wait a few more years, until Elanor has read the Ramona books, too, and take her along.

My parents used to read to us: the Super Fudge books by Judy Blume, The Hobbit, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. (We still joke about the I-thought-you-saids.) My dad’s parents lived in Oklahoma, and we’d drive out there every couple of years. This was way, way pre-built-in-DVD-player days, so my parents would switch off driving and reading to us to help pass the time.

I loved the Emily books by L.M. Montgomery. The Mandie mystery books. (My friend Sarah Evans and I had a pact that we would keep reading the Mandie books until Mandie finally married Joe. This pact seemed VERY SERIOUS AND IMPORTANT to our, like, eight-year-old selves.) (I have no idea if Mandie finally married Joe.) (I should Google that.)

As I got older, I read everything I could get my hands on. I know my mom was often challenged by my desire to read things above my maturity level – Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume comes to mind. So I started reading Christian fiction. Some of it was really good, and some of it was really bad. I loved Janette Oke’s books during late elementary school. My friend Elise Bradley and I would act out the book Roses for Mama with our dolls, and the Canadian West series touched me deeply. I loved her books so much when I was little that I wrote to Janette Oke when I was in elementary school, and she wrote me back! My mom has the letter somewhere; I should get it from her.

I read a Christan young adult series called the Jennifer books. I was captivated by one of the books, wherein Jennifer’s family moves from one state to another. The author’s description of the newness of a new place, the way it feels to get used to sleeping in a new room, to how to find the grocery store, to becoming accustomed to seeing your things a new house — all of that has stuck with me and I’ve thought of it often during our many moves throughout the years.

I made one of my dear friends (actually, the one through whom I found out about Happy Week!) in the church library. Annie and I would meet up in the library, where Mrs. … Oh, no, I can’t remember her name! What was it?! Now I’m going to have to call my mom and ask her. Annie, you know who I’m thinking of. Do you remember? Mrs…augh! It’s on the tip of my tongue. As soon as I hit publish it’s gonna come to mind. Anyway, the church library lady would introduce us to new books, and she took Annie and me under her wing. We’d meet there between services in Junior High and into High School and compare books, talk, and giggle together.

While I was in college, I didn’t have much time to read for pleasure, although that was when I discovered my love for Lord of the Rings. My mom had tried to get me to read it for years but I had never wanted to before. Then, one day in college, my roommate Claire was reading it and she left The Fellowship of the Ring sitting around. I picked it up and I was hooked; I couldn’t put it down. Since then, I’ve read it probably at least eight times in full, and have read portions of it at least three times beyond that.

My time working full-time in Seattle before we had Elanor was full of books. I don’t even remember what I read; I just know that with my 45-minute-long bus commute, I would average three books a week. I read everything I could get my hands on at the library. I read some non-fiction during this era, specifically about food: The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan, Anthony Bourdain’s books, Ruth Reichl’s books, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver.

Since I quit my job almost a year ago to stay home with Elanor, I don’t get to read a whole lot. Maybe one or two books a month. I miss reading, desperately. I miss getting lost in a really great story. I miss spending hours in bed, reading in my pajamas until 2 p.m. on the weekend because I just have to finish one more chapter.

I know; I know. It’s a stage of life. I’ll be able to read again someday. But sometimes I just ache to curl up with a good book, one that doesn’t talk about toddler sleep habits or nursing or…yeah.

That brings me to my point. Before we moved, my mom brought me three boxes from her garage, boxes full of books. My books. Oh, looking through those boxes was like rediscovering my old friends! Better yet, I’ve been able to carve out some time to sit and re-read some of my favorites lately: The Case of the Missing Duckie, my scribbled-in copies of The Cat in the Hat and The Cat in the Hat Comes Back, the Emily books, the Cherry Ames books, and some random, one-off books that captivated me when I was a girl. They still do captivate me, and I’m so glad I still like them. So many things from childhood are not as wonderful as we remember them to be, but these books have not lost their thrill for me.

I’m so happy to have these treasures here so that I can re-visit my childhood and, someday soon, share them with Elanor. I hope there will be a day not too many years from now when we both just want to curl up on the couch with a good book. Books in general make me happy, but seeing these books and having them in my home to re-read and to someday share with Elanor makes me really happy.