Skip to main content

#52Stories Project: Favorite Hobbies and Pasttimes

One of my earliest childhood memories is of an oft-repeated routine:  climbing the concrete steps of the old city library; opening the massive, heavy doors; smelling that distinct 'book' smell; walking past the rows of grown-up books to the door in the back of the room; and going downstairs to the bright, friendly children's section of the library.   

As long as I can remember, I've been a reader.  I don't remember learning how to read;  I think I absorbed reading through frequent exposure to books.  My mom would take us kids to the library weekly, and we always checked out piles of books each time.  It was a bit of a shock to get to elementary school and realize that we were only allowed to borrow 1 or 2 books at a time from the school library.  


Photo:  My mom sits on a child's chair at my Grandma's house at Christmastime and reads a book to me


Although we had a television when I was younger, my family got rid of it when I was ten.  I didn't care--that just gave me more time to read books.  I loved Nancy Drew mysteries, Little House books, and anything to do with dogs, but there were many other books I read as well.  I loved being transported through time and space to exotic (to me) places.  


Photo:  A common scene growing up: my Dad, me, and my brother on the couch reading.  (My sister was undoubtedly reading at the time this was taken, too, and Mom must have been taking the photo.)

I remember reading myself to sleep every night, and being upset with a babysitter who insisted that I turn off the light right away. She didn't seem to believe me that my parents allowed me to keep it on and read until I was ready to sleep.


Photo:  A young me, engrossed in a book

I still enjoy reading, but don't spend as much time reading as I did as a child.  My eyes close as soon as my head hits the pillow now, so reading before bed just doesn't work anymore, and often my days are spent with grown-up responsibilities.  I read my scriptures first thing in the morning, and read the newspaper at breakfast. Every now and then, though, I will get lost in a good work of fiction, and when I do, I'm that same little bookworm I've always been.


Photo:  My 2-year-old self, reading the newspaper while relaxing on the couch

Are you a grown-up version of your childhood self?  Do you still enjoy the same hobbies that you did as a child?

Next week's #52Stories project prompt:  Do you like to dabble in lots of different hobbies? If so, what are they?

Thanks for books.



Pin It

Comments

  1. yessss. I was recently telling me girls the same thing. I love to read but I also love to decorate and redecorate my little dollhouses.. As a child I spent most time decorating and redecorating my Barbie house. lol.

    ReplyDelete
  2. What a fun blast from past!

    ReplyDelete
  3. When I was teaching, I could always tell which families encouraged reading. Readers are good writers and have an extensive vocabulary.

    ReplyDelete
  4. This was a wonderful post, a trip down memory lane and the childhood joy of reading that has never left me. Your photos were a delightful addition! Going to the library from the time I was small, and then working at both the public and school libraries when I was in high school were wonderful experiences. Now we access books online more often than not, because tablet reading is easier on the hands and eyes, but I still love the feel and smell of a real book, and I always will!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Conversations are so much nicer when more than one person does the talking. :-) Please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts; I'd love to hear from you!

Popular posts from this blog

Never Give Up Hope

Twenty-three years ago, a beautiful little girl was born. From the get-go, she was sweet, sensitive, and rather shy. She has grown into a young woman of whom I am so proud. She has worked hard to overcome challenges, and recently told me she is trying to face her fears, and asked me if I would write her story and share it here on the blog, in hopes she can inspire others through their own struggles. Although I offered to publish an auto-biographical piece for her, she wanted me to write her story from my perspective. At her request, and with her approval of this post, I share the following:
The phone rang, and the social worker on the other end informed me that a baby girl had been born 10 weeks early and drug-exposed. She wasn't ready to be released from the medical facility where she was currently staying, but would we be interested in being her foster-to-adopt parents? Of course! When John and I filled out our paperwork, we indicated that we were comfortable with a premature bab…

Ten Things of Thankful: Post-Thanksgiving Edition

Hope you had a nice Thanksgiving. I'll jump right in:

1. I'm thankful for cooperative return policies. Several weeks ago, I mentioned that I had to return a range that I had purchased, and I hoped that the particular range was just a lemon and that the replacement wouldn't have the same problem. Well, unfortunately, it did. On the bright side, the store quickly picked up the second range and refunded my money. I'm putting appliance purchases on the back burner (!) for the moment. 

2. I'm thankful for temples. I went one morning this week to the temple. I'm always amazed at how much insight comes in just an hour or two of reflection. 

3. I'm thankful for my sister. She and her family came to Utah to spend Thanksgiving with her in-laws, and I got a chance to see her and her family on Wednesday. The last time I saw her was in January at our grandma's 100th birthday celebration. We feel lucky to have two visits in one year! 

4. I'm thankful for my brother. …

Six Sentence Story: Burst

The moment the church organist started playing the introduction to the hymn, the precocious toddler girl stood up on the pew. Music just moved her, and she was doubly excited when she realized she recognized the tune. Though everyone around her was opening a hymnal and finding the right page, that was unnecessary for her. 
First of all, she couldn't read, but second, even if she could read, she didn't need the words; they were etched into her memory. Finally, the organist finished the introduction and the chorister signaled the congregation to begin, but while the rest of the church-goers sang, "Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing," the sweet little girl belted out, "Go tell Aunt Rhody." By the time she got to the line about the old grey goose being dead, all decorum was lost as those around her burst out laughing. 




This has been another Six Sentence Story. The blog hop is hosted by Denise of Girlie on the Edge each week. The rules are simple: write a six sent…