Reawakening

When it came to it, I couldn't remember when I stopped reading. Moreover, I couldn't remember why. Between the pages required for class, anything much beyond some devotional time in my Bible and some long familiar pages from Bill Bryson or To Kill A Mockingbird, the drive flicked out. Until this Christmas, when I intentionally asked for three books and read all of them over the next three months. Muscles and determination long fallow began to slowly flex their muscles again and in the past month I remembered how much I love to read. I mean, this passion has exploded in the vaccuum of a schedule too programmed and full to accomdate this renewed love.

I narrate to myself as I think, weaving words together that cause yearning for an implant in my brain to record my monologues. I wish I was being melodramatic, I wish I was exaggerating...but help me, they sound that good in my head. Conversely, my lack of time to put pen to paper or eyes to novel seems inconsequential...my dreams last night found me hunched over a desk, writing a novel. If it doesn't get done on this end, at least I can accomplish great things in my dreams.
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Back from a great vacation. Lots of food, family and travels. There's a post brewing somewhere about slipping another's grandparents on like a comfortable sweater...but I'm not there yet. I only leave with these thoughts -- "you are the best one of the best ones...you have stolen my heart."