Like many of you, I’ve put many books on my TBR list because I was planning to read them once upon a time ago, but that simply didn’t happen. I’ve looked at my list from Goodreads a couple of days ago, and realized that I had no desire to read some of the books I put on my TBR list because of x-y-z reason (which includes the story no longer pertains to what I enjoy reading about, I’ve heard so much about the book that it has become overhyped, and just because).
The books are the list are ones I put years ago when I started blogging (so that’s like six years ago). It’s time for me to let go of these books because I don’t think I’ll ever get to it.
My sister’s boyfriend, who I call affectionately the bro-in-law, was in California for the past week for a wedding, and he came to visit my family. He threw out that I should come with him back to Tacoma to surprise my sister, who I hadn’t seen in person in three years. After a 24 hour whirlwind, or ordeal, of going in circles of the pros and cons of visiting, I decided, why not? I didn’t have plans for the next week (and I won’t be able to visit them around the holidays), so I decided to join him on the road trip back to Tacoma.
Because of this rather spontaneous trip, there may not be a lot of blog posts in the next week. I will definitely have a post about what happened on the road trip up soon because oh boy, such a surreal experience. I know it’s gonna be a pretty laid-back week in Tacoma.
Have you ever decided to go to a different state or country spontaneously? Where did you go?
Everybody has that book (or books) that they’ve read again and again until the pages are tattered or falling out like hair, the edges worn down, the spine cracked, death looming around the corner. I always find those types of books to be: 1. ones you’ve reread a lot and 2. ones that you’ve own for many many years. It’s a tell-tale sign that the book is well-loved. Those books are our precious.
The only book I can think of that I still own and has been worn down so much that it’s a shell of its former self: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
I know, I know. I am in pain too that this beloved book had been broken into halves. I really wore it down. :P It’s not that I didn’t take good care of the book; it’s just the result of owning this book for around 15 years and constant rereading it when I was a pre-teen. It takes a toll on the book. But you know what? I look fondly at it and think, “it’s wearing its wounds with pride.” It really is a compliment to the book (even if it’s falling at the seams).