Reading has been a favorite hobby of mine longer than anything else….Well, maybe it doesn’t beat eating, but you get the picture.
When I played pretend and acted like a dog (around age 4-6) it was the best time ever. I would run around until my knuckles were raw and my mother’s temper was worn thin.
Another joy at that age was when my mother would “make” me read because she wanted me to learn. Even though I grew tired of trying to decipher the words I look back on my early reading with my mom as a wonderful gem.
Reading taught me new words. For some time I kept paper bookmarks in my books so if I was reading and came across a word I wasn’t sure of the meaning I would jot it on the back of my bookmark and define it later. I learned this technique to avoid mispronouncing a word out loud and getting giggles or comments about my unfamiliarity with words.
I learned to pass the time by reading. If I couldn’t wait til Dad got home from work so we could start our new project I would bury myself in a book until it was 5:00. I have fallen so deeply into a book before that it takes several calls to get me to surface.
Ignoring external influences was a great trick I learned from reading. Healing from a surgery or illness? Read until you pass out without straining your hoarse voice. Hungry, but it’s not quite dinner time? Dive in for a couple chapters until dinner is ready.
Pretending to be a dog was an infatuation that came and went.
Journaling has been a huge part of my life since I was 15.
The one lovely constant has been my joy of reading. Picture books, magazines, novels and sometimes (rarely) even text books for school.
Thank you to my family for teaching me the joy of reading. It has been the best gift I’ve ever received.