Forty six books finished this year, and only one of them I didn't like. There is low number of rereads this time, only two. As a child there were a few books I read over and over, several times a year. Jacob Have I Loved, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, and The Long Winter are a few that I remember. I have talked to people who say they never reread books. They are missing out. Most books have something new to find in them each time you read them.
I have a stack of books laying in piles around my bed that I have started and at some point intend to finish. They hopefully will be on the list next year. Looking over this year's list it looks like a good reading year. I read less nonfiction than usual, but I got on a fantasy kick for a good part of the year. My love of memoirs isn't represented much either. To start off next year I am already in the middle of a few memoirs.
I was so plowed when I made that last post that all I remember doing was squinting at the post and backspacing to correct the many typing errors. I am glad I posted though, because by morning I had forgot about that conversation until I read it. It made me laugh as I yakked several times on my drive to Wichita. I had picked up the girls a few days after Christmas to spend part of their school vacation with us. The first was the only day I had off to drive them home. At one point I pulled over to throw up and as I was holding it in until I came to a stop it started to come out my nose. That was a nice visual wasn't it? Anyway it took much longer than the usual four hours to make the drive there. I took an hour nap on my sisters couch and felt better when I woke up. The ride home was regurgitation free and went much faster. My i-pod went dead though so I couldn't listen to The Golden Compass on the way home, that sucked.
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