People bitch about growing old. Yes, yes, I know, I’m one of the worst. Although this time I’m not. This time I bring good news.
There’s an up side to aging. Indeedy do.
It started when I wanted to sit down and read a book. I have a great system for choosing a new one: I wander around my own stacks until I find something I’ve forgotten, or at least one where I don’t remember the ending.
See? It’s free, it’s easy, and I already know I’ll like whatever it is since I don’t keep books I don’t like. (Well, except three. One for the title, and two each for a single line.)
This is what just happened: I picked up “The Sun, The Moon, and The Stars” by Steven Brust. Partway through it, I started to think that this would be a good book for Melva.
Four pages later there was a note in the margin. Yes, in Melva’s handwriting.
The coda is that I’m still going to bring her the book as soon as I finish it. She won’t remember it any better than I did, and she’ll enjoy it all over again.
If not, I’ll have to put a note in it for the next time I forget and read it again.
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