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The Grisham’s are stacked over there on top of a nightstand, and the alphabet series is spread out over three bookcases. Ms. Cornwell is here and there, and if you won’t laugh, I have a section on erotica somewhere in the closet. A few Janet Evanovich books have been added to my collection, and they are stacked on a ladder-back chair in the dining area. She’s new to me, so I’m saving her for a rainy day.

My father’s and grandfather’s Oz books by L. Frank Baum and later Ruth Plumly Thompson date back to 1915 (there are three different books). There is Tennyson’s Poems that must have belonged to my great-grandmother (dated 1896), and let’s not forget The Blue Book of Social and Friendly Correspondence (dated 1922). I have several other books that belonged to my parents and grandparents, as well as books for children that my siblings and I enjoyed when we were young.

Through the years, I have collected a few Bibles, but none is more beautiful than our family Bible, which dates back to 1873. Actually, there are two family Bibles, and my sister has the other one. I should ask her about the date.

For some reason, I have a collection of dictionaries. The same is true for cookbooks that came from my mother’s kitchen. I’m a card-carrying member of the world’s worst cooks organization. Okay, there probably isn’t such an organization, but the title fits.

Dad’s Carrier Cruise Annual (1950-51) is displayed quite nicely, as is a model of one of the aircraft he flew. My uncle sent me his three volumes of Lee’s Lieutenants by Douglas Southall Freeman (dated 1943 and 1944). I’ve yet to read them.

I have slim books and fat books, hard covered books and soft covered books, paperbacks that have yellowed with age and books that are begging to be read. Mysteries, poetry, history, art, travel, and the old self-help books all grace my bookcases, table tops, and various other places. A few classics are thrown in for good measure.

Books, books, books … and now they come in LARGE print. No more squinting at small print found in paperback books. Soft covered books and hard covered books in LARGE print is a true blessing to these old, tired eyes.

Well, I could go on and on, but I won’t …

Have a nice day!

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

We do this bit by bit. We let others into our lives … our private nooks and crannies and secret places. We trust that they are who they purport to be, just as we are honest about ourselves. Then it begins.

We share our deepest thoughts and feelings. We allow others to see our good and funny and thoughtful and sad and intelligent and grumpy and vulnerable sides. We are multi-faceted, I suppose.

We share phone numbers and addresses and emails and screen names and birthdays. We discuss family and friends, as if we all lived in the same neighborhood. We share photographs and Web cams and voice chats and phone calls … things meant to bring each other into focus … into our real world.

We trust. We love. We give. We take. We get angry. We misunderstand. We get hurt, and then we give it one more try hoping to make things better.

We cry for ourselves because we feel stupid and silly and cheap and used and tossed aside as if we never existed, and we wonder if we will ever trust again.

We do and so it begins as if it never ended. We forgive and move forward; oftentimes, we forget. We are, after all, just human beings.

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.

I won’t say that the form of cancer I had will never come back, but after six rounds of a very aggressive form of chemo and four PET scans my prognosis is very good.

In fact, I won’t see the doctor until the end of October, my port will be removed in the next few weeks, and a CT scan will be done in six months.

That’s a whole lot of grateful, thankful, and Praise God from where I’m sitting.

Life is truly good!

Catherine

© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.