The Comfort Of Books

I LOVED to read. What an escape !

Born in the mid 60`s and growing up in the 70`s children`s TV was limited and there were no such things as mobile phones, tablets, computers etc. Most children passed the hours playing outside in Summer or when the weather was bad, indoors with siblings, cousins and neighbours. As an only child, not an outdoor type even when allowed and a shy, timid loner who was mostly used to adult company, I was a solitary soul. Seldom were the few playmates I did have allowed in my house and given little freedom I filled my days with either chores, keeping my head down so as not to disturb my Mother, taking our dog for walks or making frequent trips to the local library, often twice a week. 

Sometimes for me, though often to endlessly exchange books I had selected for her which hadn`t been to her liking. She would never go herself, too far to walk {15 mins each way} and so I had a rigid, like and dislike mental list of her preferences and passed many an afternoon browsing and reading the summaries to get her a good selection, it was a thankless task and if she `couldn`t get into` any of my choices she would be sulky and then begin picking at every little move I made, select a winner and she was placated for a day or two. "I love this book Amanda" she would beam, me knowing I had set myself a high bench mark for my next selection trip.

My sparse bedroom was my playground. I liked colouring books, writing stories and above all reading. I was never without a book. They were an endless source of `another life` scenarios, feeding my imagination, where I lived in a warm, happy home with lots of love, could do no wrong and had lots of adventures, often saving the day, as being the people pleaser I was trained to be it made for the perfect ending as I had been able to prove my worth and usefulness. Unconditional love was as yet undiscovered in my world.

 I loved most books for children my age but also I enjoyed the Miss Read series. They were so warm and inviting and everything always turned out alright, which was always important to me.

Another read and re-read favorite was Scrub dog of Alaska

Books were also handy to bury my head in when my parents were going at it in another row, if I was trapped in the room with them at least I could avoid eye contact either with her in case she tried to get me to take her side or with him in case she saw this as a look of sympathy and then I`d be for it too.

It really was like living in a war zone, either full on bun fights or cold war silence,

Still there was always Miss Read !

Or some boarding school caper....

   

Never underestimate the solace and comfort to be found in a good book.