i rode racehorses instead of reading books

i often feel that i missed out on a great chunk of literature that most kids from educated families read in their high school years. i never regret the experiences i DID have during those years: co-training 30+ racehorses, training my own horse (increasing her value from $1500 to $6500), living in wilderness areas for two summers, singing 3-part harmony in church with my little sisters (and mom on the piano), leading a 4-H group, piglets, swing-dancing, trail rides, skiing on Mt Hood, jogging on cold mornings (while eating blackberries off the vines next to the road), cruising in my friends' trucks (singing along with the newest Blink 182 CD, i know, i know, but the drummer was so cute).

but when my friends talk about Chesterton, Waugh, For Whom The Bell Tolls, To Kill a Mockingbird, Jane Eyre, Nathaniel Hawthorne, William Faulkner, Poe, Steinbeck, and Tennessee Williams, i get a little nervous and just smile and nod. i never read those in-between books-- i skipped straight from Island of The Blue Dolphins (junior high) to Aristotle (college). the years of painful, dry philosophy took away all my desire to read since. i don't think i read a single book during my two years away from school (and i certainly didn't read anything during my last 3 semesters there!)... my sense of wonder was THAT stunted.

now i'm catching up. i managed to read a book or two per week at Virus Central. thanks to book exchanges at hostels, my reading list catch-up continues. in brussels, i picked up a copy of The Mill on the Floss (The Floss is a river--didn't know that, now i do.) by George Eliot, and YUP! George is a CHICK--didn't know that, now i do! i'm 125 pages in, 410 to go, and i'm enjoying myself quite a bit. i love the naughty little girl who upsets the proper people to no end, then runs away to live with the gypsies.

here's one of Eliot's many acute statements:

Mrs. Tulliver was what is called a good-tempered person--never cried when she was a baby on any slighter ground than hunger and pins; and from the cradle upwards had been healthy, fair, plump, and dull-witted; in short, the flower of her family for beauty and amiability. But milk and mildness are not the best things for keeping, and when they turn only a little sour, they may disagree with young stomachs seriously. I have often wondered whether those early Madonnas of Raphael, with the blond faces and somewhat stupid expression, kept their placidity undisturbed when their strong-limbed, strong-willed boys got a little too old to do without clothing. I think they must have been given to feeble remonstrance, getting more and more peevish as it became more and more ineffectual.

annoyingly the last owner of this book felt the need to circle--in pen-- all the "hard words" such as "frivolous" and "erroneous". NEVER do this, no matter how good the idea seems at the time. you are NEVER really going to look up all those words. and every future owner of the book will HATE you. and it's just bad karma. i repeat, you are NEVER allowed to circle the "hard words," ok?

fun times.

ps: why can't i EVER remember if i'm allowed to let the commas in, or if they have to stay outside? bad commas!