Tell me please, why all the fuss about summer reading? Everywhere I turn there are wonderful lists of books that the list-writer has planned on reading during the summer. My favorite blogs are full of summer reading lists and many of my cherished podcasts are waxing poetic on the topic.
The "list maker" app on my Ipod is also full of summer reading plans. I made these lists (yes, there are quite a few lists in there) in the spring while on a trip with my Man and my Molly. We cruised a bookstore or two (more like 10) while we traveled and I, knowing that I had little time for personal reading before school ended for the year, made lists of books I would conquer during the blissful, carefree, lazy days of summer. (Can't you just hear the ocean waves and the gentle breeze blowing?)
My lists were organized into categories which included: Summer Non-Fiction, Summer Mysteries, Inspirational Non-Fiction, Biographies & Summer Fiction. A glance at the calendar tells me that summer is half over. My reading lists inform me that the only fiction in my summer has been the idea that I'd have any time to read!
What was I thinking? We flew right out of baseball into two weeks of swimming lessons. Swimming lessons faded as theater camp entered the scene. Theater camp ended production yesterday and Vacation Bible School begins tomorrow. In our future, basketball camp, football camp, and vacation remain.
My new book list has two books on it, both of which I've already begun and have a small prayer of finishing. One is an audio book, to be listened to while doing laundry and the other is a mystery to be read while hiding in the basement pretending to do the laundry.