I most particularly enjoy this photograph of my grandmother reading a paper when she was not quite two-years-old.

I am a reader. I have always been one and really do not understand those who are not. I enjoy the smell of a new book and savor that of an old one. I read whenever and wherever I can. I am unable to sleep without at least reading a few pages, and I will not admit just exactly how often of late I have read the night away since I have not job for which to arise in the morning.

Books are my oldest friends and most staunch companions. I have those which I hold dear and visit again and again and then those I have been glad to meet, but wish to remain mere acquaintances. My home is spilling over with them, and yet I wouldn't mind owning a few more.

I open a book, begin to read, and am transported places where I am challenged, entertained, soothed, chastised, encouraged, and inspired. Those who walk the pages are oft more real to me than those whose lives are played out right beside me....probably because I understand them. I understand their world. I belong.

I enjoy this picture because it reminds me of a grandmother with whom I shared one true thing in common. The delight of books.