With increasing frequency, I have been dreaming of books. And I am blaming it all on Laura Ingalls Wilder.
She celebrated a birthday last week and since then I haven’t been able to get her out of my head.
Roaming the stacks of a second hand book store, I encountered my sister. My little sister. You know, who is about to have a baby RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND. Despite her being pregnant, we roamed the stacks like she was 22 (and I was 24) … We drifted aimlessly, our fingers grazing spines of books that were abandoned by other readers. They lifted and settled repeatedly. Our independent gazes roamed like lasers, striking on titles, colours and font. I am a dead sucker for font.
(But give me a ridiculous title? I will spend all the money in the world.)
Our fingers both touched on 1971 editions of Laura’s books. You know those, with the great yellow colouring and delightful illustrations. On The Banks of Plum Creek is perfection.
I woke up Saturday morning with a sticky mouth and a fixation on books. I had read the hell out of Gone Girl the night before, but I needed more book. More tangible bookness.
We went to the library. This was not a dream. But I wish it was…because everyone was badly behaved, ran around, yelled and then pooped in their (Eleanor) diaper.
And then later, at night I dreamed of a bookstore… I was, well, I was hot. Which is not my usual M.O. But it was, in this dream anyways. So I was slinky, and was strolling the stacks and my fingers were stroking books in a manner that shall be deemed illicit. My legs curved around a corner before my body did and bumped into Michael. (Yes, this dream not only starred Mike, but books as well.)
We had an aggressive conversation about Nancy Drew and Laura Ingalls Wilder. We both plucked books off the shelves like they were eggs to a carton. We approached the check out desk with identical stacks of used books. We purchased. We left separately. We didn’t see each other again for 3 months.
I woke up at 7:45 am.
With Michael. He was still sleeping after working until 2 am. I made a cup of coffee and read Jim Butcher.
To be continued…