Aug. 8th, 2011

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 Went to the library today, and saw on the new releases shelf the first volume of Mark Twain's autobiography.  I picked it up, and checked it out, and started to leave the library happily, a goofy grin on my face, and the book cuddled up in my arms against my chest.

"Ms. Judi?"  called a voice.  "What you looking so happy about?"  It was one of my former students.  After exchanging greetings, I showed her the book.

"That is one thick-ass book about a dead white guy," she said dubiously.  The book is two and a half inches thick, and as I pointed out to her, only volume one of three.

I explained to her how Twain was one of my favorite authors, and that these writings had been held back for 100 years, and that I could read brand-new Twain witticisms that no one had ever read or studied before for the first time, and this made me happy.  I had new things to read from an old friend.

I also said how happy I was to see her there at the library.  She grinned back at me.  After all, she was there, too, with magazines.

"Oh, Ms. Judi," she said, waving her hand at me in a good-natured shooing motion.  "You are so you.  You go enjoy your book."

And so I will.
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 Last week was not a good one for me and exercise.  Read more... )

A fifty-wonderful ride.


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