chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

the library…

library checkout cardsOur small family didn’t have many cozy rituals, but the library was one. Every two weeks, for much of my childhood, the three of us would gather our stacks of books and, after a weeknight dinner, drive a couple miles to the public library. There we’d separate into our own worlds. My father would browse the long shelves of well-worn fiction, my mother would settle at a table to peruse art books and I would wander the aisles of the children’s section, running one finger along the spines of the books, waiting for some spark, some quiet call — “This one!” — before pulling a book from the shelf and examining it, deciding, selecting.

After perhaps an hour, we’d each bring our dozen books to the checkout desk and open and stack them with our library cards on top. The librarian would stamp the due date on each checkout card, slide it back into the sleeve, close the book and set it in a pile. When she set my library card on top of the pile, I knew I could take the books. Even all these decades later, the images, the smells, the sounds — the muffled scrape of chairs on the linoleum floor, the whispers, the turning pages — are as fresh as the feel of that stack of books in my arms — heavy and important and, for the next two weeks, mine.
—–
library checkout cards

Advertisements

One response to “the library…

  1. tomwisk January 7, 2012 at 12:37 pm

    Loved the library. Spent time in the stacks during junior high. Read everything I could glom onto. It stood me in good stead. When I have to do resrearch I know how and where i need to go, Unfortunatly have discovered Amazon and web search. I go back for a fix of knowledge on tap now and again.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: