Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Books

This was taken before I moved all the poetry and reference books upstairs to the new office space--they still need to be put on the shelves. Guess why? Because we still haven't painted the moldings upstairs. Still! I can't wait until this space is completely finished--it seems like all the rooms are in a twilight stage, suspended in not quite there yet.

6 comments:

LKD said...

"Heaven...I'm in heaven!
And my heart beats so
that I can barely speak!"

Hey, did you hear about that recent study which correlated childrens' intelligence and performance in school with parental influence? Specifically, things like visiting museums and reading to a child seems not to have as much overall effect on the child as does something as seemingly innucuous as growing up in a house full of books. I'm not kidding. I discussed this with my mother, told her that I had no clear memory, alas, of either she or my father reading to me, but I do recall, from a very early age, feeling a great reverence for books because the shelves in the house were overflowing with them, they were stacked on tables and floors. It was like living in a used bookshop. Too, I have clear memories of both of my parents reading. Books were holy to me.
They still are.

CNN...or one of those newstations, did a piece on the study this weekend.

So, Zanne, heaven. You are in heaven.

Suzanne said...
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Suzanne said...

Laurel,
I'm not surprised at all. By the way not one single person in my family ever read me a story. Not once! But, it was because they ALL had their noses stuck in their own books. I remember distinctly the passion and yearning I had to learn how to read. Once I did I never stopped.

With kids it's always about what you do, not what you say--parents reading = children reading, parents who love books will generally lead to children who love books.

Anne said...

My kindergarten teacher once came over to my house with an armload of books. She'd noticed that I loved books, and she was afraid that I might be living in a house without books. Of course, as soon as she walked in, she could see books everywhere and knew there was no need for worry. (As I recall, we gladly accepted the books anyway. We didn't own a whole lot of kids' books, though we always had an enormous pile checked out from the library.)

I've never been able to imagine NOT loving books.

michi said...

looks like my place, suzanne! *L*

my parents and grandparents did read me stories, but they were not really avid readers themselves, esp not my mom. but i cannot remember a time when i did not love books. i took them everywhere with me, even on a 10 minute trip by car. we always had to bring one extra bag or small suitcase for books on our family holidays. i still don't normally leave the house without one book, and usually i have two in my little backpack, a novel and a poetry book.
my middle brother was the exact opposite - he never ever read books until he was in his twenties.
and the youngest of the family is like me, a bookworm, though he does not usually read fiction.

m

Suzanne said...

Speaking of books...I was recently in someone's very beautiful home--new, huge, and not a second-hand thing inside--there wasn't a single book in the entire house. It gave me the creeps.