Mother’s Day is one day in the year that we set aside to specifically celebrate, honor, and love our mothers. Yes, we do love our mother’s every day but we don’t always remember to tell them that we love them. I am not a mother myself, unless you count my dog and cat as children, but I do have a special place in my heart for my own mom. After all, she is the reason why I love books as much as I do!
My love of classic musicals came from watching them with my mother on Saturday afternoons at a really young age. I fell in love with Judy Garland in the Wizard of Oz and their dancing and singing down that yellow brick road. My mother decorated my room in red gingham (yes, I know Dorothy’s dress was blue!) and started giving me copies of all of the Oz books by Frank L. Baum. I still have some of them sitting in my bookcase.
She would read these books to me at night starting my long love of fantasy novels and transporting myself to other magical worlds. I had an older brother and sister who were reading “older” books and soon began asking for her to read books I knew they were reading like Robert Jordan and J. R. R Tolkien. She read the Hobbit to me every night for a year, a memory that lingers with me. I can hear Golem’s “precious” in my own mothers voice. In 1990 my mother gave me a bound copy of The Hobbit because she also loved that same memory.
I can envision trips to the library with my mom where I would check out 5 books at a time. I had a small bookcase built into my closet that was filled with library books. A precursor to today’s book filled shelves and kindle! I have since wondered how often my mom had to pay the late fee’s on those books. I can’t remember returning them, although I’m certain we must’ve, but I can certainly remember the wonder of checking them out and the greed of having them awaiting me on my shelf.
Today, I am honoring my mother for showing me her love for books and passing that love on. She may have come to regret it because I am always asking her if she’s read such and such and what did she think, or pushing a new favorite into her hands. I think my mother should feel proud because she did such a great job in passing on that love. So, I want to say “Thanks Mom”! My life wouldn’t be the same without my journey through Oz and Rivendell. I’ve followed my own yellow brick road and it leads to a mountain of books that I have yet to read. When you’re ready to talk about that next book, you know where to find me…
XOXO and much love!
Discussion: What books did your own mother read to you? Do you have any special Mother’s Day book memories to share?
Until next Sunday,
Debs
My mom.
.
What matches up perfectly with our American Grand Slam breakfast? Come Sundown by Nora Roberts. Bodine Longbow is running the resort side of her family’s business. She is not looking for love but she definitely finds it when Cal Skinner moves back home. Their love story is the perfect silky fried egg that you eat with toast. That piece of crisp bacon is the family drama that sideswipes your emotions taking this novel beyond a normal romance. Perfection is often what you can easily grab out of your refrigerator and make. Yep, that’s Nora Roberts to a tee!
Really any Kristen Ashley novel is a guilty pleasure. It’s like that cinnamon roll that sits on the plate in front of you. You gaze at it longingly knowing that once you start eating it you won’t be able to put it down until you have licked the last bit of frosting off the plate. For me, that’s a Kristen Ashley novel. I stared at The Time In Between on my kindle and waited until I knew I had the time to read it straight through to the finish. It did not disappoint, just as that cinnamon roll never has… I wish I had one of each right now!
Penny Reid has written a wonderfully charming series about the Winston Brothers. These novels are quirky, fun, and have a ton of heart, just like a Denver Omelet. You have a hearty omelet filled with crunchy peppers and onion, and oh those bits of ham provide that bit of decadence and fun. In my world, I always add cheese, because well, cheese makes everything better. In the Winston Brothers world, Cletus is the cheese. If you’ve read these books, you know what I mean…
Who doesn’t love a stack of fluffy, buttery, dripped in syrup pancakes? I love them! This year I discovered the Others series by Anne Bishop. You may wonder how an urban fantasy series matches up with a stack of spicy pumpkin pancakes? Well, just as with this stack, you look at it and see pancakes. Yes, the butter is melting on the top of the stack, and the syrup is dripping off the sides. You think you know what you’re going to get. Then you take that first bite, and pow! The cinnamon and pumpkin flavor hit your taste buds. Surprise! Then you dig in and gobble up that stack. That’s exactly how I felt about this series. I had seen it and thought someday… Then when I actually picked it up and took that first bite? Wow…
The egg cup. Oh so very civil and proper. You tap it with your spoon until you crack through the top and then eat the insides out of the shell. Alexander Rostov, the gentleman in A Gentleman in Moscow is the epitomy of civilized. Even though he is under house arrest in the grand Metropol hotel he is always elegant, cultured and charming. He and this egg in a cup had a lot in common. Smooth veneer, but with a little work you would taste that silky goodness that resides inside. All in a very civilized manner, of course!
The Reading Chick 
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