Interpretation by Kari Larson
I recently read a book in which the narrator is accidentally listening in on a book club meeting. His mother is hosting. Drinks are involved. There’s no book in sight. Ok, maybe they talked a little about the out-of-sight book, but mostly it was an appointed time and place where women (it was a women’s club) could hang out, eat fabulously bad food, solve each other’s problems, and solve all of the world’s problems too.
Sounds like my kind of book club. Except that I’d probably like to talk more about books.
I love to read. I’m currently traveling and camping with my husband in a mini-van where space is at a premium but I’ve got seven books with me. We sleep smushed together on a twin mattress that sits on top of a compartmentalized platform. Under the platform is where we store food, clothes, toiletries, pots, pans, plates, bowls, utensils, six pounds of coffee, 12 gallons of water, a mandolin, two backpacks, and seven books.
Plus other stuff.
For me good books can shed light on the world’s problems. They can also take me away from the world’s problems. They can help me to address my faults, or evaluate my strengths, or diminish my insecurities, or spark my creativity, or validate my pubescent, menopausal, roller derby emotions, or just plain old make me laugh my ass off.
Or cry.
Whiskey has some of the same effects. But books are a much healthier option so I’ll continue to make lots of space for them in my life. And every once in a while I’ll sneak in a whiskey. And some fabulously bad food too.
XO,
M
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