Hey! Get your mind out of the gutter. I am a married woman! Plus, my mom and my sister-in-law (not to mention my sexiest-man-alive husband *sheepish grin*) read this blog so…as IF. Anyway on to the real post…
I can’t explain it but there is something about certain writers that resonates deep down in my soul. Sometimes I feel so connected to what they are saying that I think we must have known each other somehow, somewhere.
I have always loved to read. There were times in what would in today’s day be called my "tween" years that I struggled to find an author I connected with. I had moved beyond Anne of Green Gables and Nancy Drew and felt a bit foolish reading Are You There God It’s Me Margaret. However, when I was 11 and I picked up Wifey even I knew (although I would never have admitted it) that I wasn’t ready for this grown-up stuff. But, for the most part, I always had at least one book on the go. And now, for the most part, I still do.
When I was in University getting my degree in English I was a total book snob. I read Shakespeare (wait a minute! Twelfth Night is only rated 3 leaves on Indigo.ca?? what fools are reviewing these things?!) and Chaucer but my love was for Canadian women’s literature. My Auntie Helen (also known as Margaret Clarke) was an author and I read her books with great pride and curiosity. I read EVERYTHING by Margaret Atwood who wrote my favourite book of all time, The Handmaid’s Tale (and don’t say "oh, I saw the movie and it sucked" because you are right…it did…but read that book and try and tell me that woman was not a genius or a soothsayer or something).
But now I am not so picky. Or maybe I am just more open to the wonderful things reading can bring. Sometimes I just need to escape. I need something smooth and character driven like Maeve Binchy or Diana Gabaldon (and a little bit o’ nooky don’t hurt neither). Or something thought provoking like Contact (LOVED THIS BOOK. Again, the movie does not come close), Andromeda Strain, or The Red Tent. Or something emotional…let’s face it, sometimes I just need a good cry. Recently I have read The Glass Castle and The Memory Keeper’s Daughter. Both intensely emotional.
But on the day to day what really keeps me reading are my favourite blogs. Yes, I think of them as mine. I am very protective of the blogs I love and I love them for very different reasons. First of all, of course, are my urbanmoms.ca blogs. But also there is this: Sweet and Salty is written by an east coast blogger whose life is both tragic and uplifting. Her writing touches my soul and keeps me coming back to lurk on a regular basis. I never feel quite smart or cool enough to comment…being just lil ol’ me after all., but I read faithfully. I love to read and there is something that simply feeds my soul when I find a writer I connect with. Here is an excerpt from a post at Sweet and Salty that really hit home. With humour and insight she communicates what all of us must feel from time to time and I feel that we are in this together:
ten months to the day
For sale, cheap: One 3 year-old boy, not housebroken. Special this week only: 25% off due to argumentative defects. Does not come when called. Talks back. Does not eat. Refuses to blow nose, preferring instead to snort snot into the back of his throat at least fifteen times per minute. Smells like crotch. Whines incessantly. Ability to vomit at will.
Also this week: 75% off one worn out, ineffective, unwashed, self-loathing, androgynous half-woman, half-rottweiler blend. Comes with door-slamming prowess, relentless abdominal pooch and complimentary nightmares.
PLEASE BE NOTIFIED the fire sale of aformentioned small boy and growling she-dog has been retracted due to temporary relief as provided by: 1) one medicinal ‘It-Was-Staring-At-Me-Longingly-When-I-Opened-The-Fridge- Seeking-Carrot-Sticks’ Sleeman’s Honey Lager; 2) two hours of comfortably toddler-numbing SellMySoul-o-vision; and 3) one hour-long “family adventure” on sheets of near-rink ice in a torrential freezing rain downpour.
Duly noted: therapeutic alcohol WORKS.