Childhood books. Books that my fingers touched, opened up. My nose smelled the old pages. My eyes looked at the folded down corners, I see the yellowing,(I googled it) yellowing,from years of USE! I remember the artwork that I stared at for hours. I am in the imagination world of Charlotte’s web. Sometimes I was the rat. Grouchy, fat, disgusting, but somehow he seems to know how to choose just the right letters to help the spider spell something amazing to help sweet,gentle helpless Wilbur the pig that I was, at brief moments thru the book. Little House on the Prairie is still my all time favorite because Little House in The Big Woods was my very second book, the Bible was my first, that I owned all to myself. My taped up pages falling out, old books, sitting out every fall and thru the winter now, as I wish I had a farm,or I am traveling with a bonnet on my head and no shoes on my feet,I am always Laura,never ever anyone else. The Secret Garden, as I push back the ivy and find the keyhole to a whole other time of memories and love,of sickness and death. The Wind in the Willows. Oh, Toad. Always wandering, not to be settled in one place. I felt and understood your mischievous self. Nancy Drew, calm, well dressed, inspiring little girls to look for clues in all that we do. She drew me in and so did the scary don’t listen to your mom ways of Peter Cottontail. Pooh, my absolute favorite, then, and forever! Winnie- the-Pooh lived not only in my heart,but in my the labels of ALL my clothes or I would not wear them and forever in my home. Little Women without money, and no television,making up plays,writing by candlelight,giving away their Christmas meal. Island of the Blue Dolphins took me to different levels of fear and courage that I will not go on about, because you have to be strong to read this one. Then Heidi! The fresh cheese and milk, the mountains,the Grandpa……….then on to growing up and the list does not and I hope not ever end.