Libraries and I have a love-hate relationship. Well, that’s not really true. It’s mostly love. Really, I only hate libraries when I have procrastinated a big paper and finally have to force myself to get started on it. So that’s really hating the self-induced torture that just happens to usually take place in a library. Libraries, when used the way they are intended, are incredibly spectacular places.
As a homeschooler, I think I have a rather unique perspective on libraries. Growing up, the library was one of my favorite places, right up there with Grandma’s house and the cab of my dad’s combine at harvest time. My mom took my sisters and I there about once a week, and we reveled in it. We would scatter among the shelves, gleefully selecting books to devour in the days to come. Eventually, my mom was forced to set a limit (I think 5 or 6 books per fanatic) so that the plastic orange crate which held our library books remained a reasonable weight. The librarians knew my sisters and I well, in addition to all 14 digits of my mom’s library card number. We were fixtures and I loved it.
As I have grown older, my feelings about libraries have not changed. Life, unfortunately, has moved on, often leaving me precious little time to bask between the shelves. Nevertheless, I wistfully await the day when I will have nothing to do but read. I hope it comes soon.
What is your relationship with libraries?