I Miss Books!
Oct. 13th, 2005 04:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lenora_roseI've been wondering for a while just why it is I don't seem to read so much anymore (Though I collect books at the same rate). I finally twigged to it, and I feel stupid for not observing it already.
I always used to read over supper.
Colin prefers to watch TV. (This sounds backwards to those who know we don't get cable, and get the few stations we can receive in triplicate. What can I say? DVDs are wonderful ways to catch up on odd viewing.)
Nothing wrong with watching TV, at least when the TV in question is the Muppets, or Firefly, or Barney Miller.
It also lets us feel we're doing something together, sharing something even though we're not talking, especially when we're done the food but not the episode, and we cuddle up a bit on the couch. (Cuddling. Always a plus!) It's not a deep sharing of company, but it's a tangible one, the more when we can quote in-jokes, and sue the shows as a conversation topic on other times.
But I've been really craving good books lately. And the good books are on the shelf, in the house, but I'm not getting to get to them. I haven't stopped by any means, but it gets done in small drabs, or by taking a night off writing.
I used to watch TV shows at length only when I had a lump of clay in hand, or a bowl in need of decoration, or a dress to sew. (The first two made a mess of the futon, even though I had a plastic layer over my lap, and sometimes a sheet, too. But I could live with that - clay is basically dust, and vacuums up from the futon, and wipes off the table, pretty well. Actually, the threads from the third option are the worst, for all they look the least like horrific mess.)
I don't want to take reading time out of my writing time. My writing time has been small enough. I don't want to take too much out of my Colin-time, either; I'm not in this relationship for archery nights and special occasions only.
I guess it's that old problem that so many of my hobbies are essentially solitary, yet I want to spend time with him, and share things. Writing is a necessity, and he's understanding about that. He's also understanding about out-of-the-house things like choir or SCA dance practice, that he's not involved in by his own choice. I don't want to add more to the pile.
Gack! I WANT them to make the change to my work hours NOW, thank you! That would give me new hours in the day for reading or writing or whatever I please, and I wouldn't have to choose between the person I care about and the activities I'm missing.
(I'm also thinking about this because I could, right this instant, pick up 5 books cheap off Abebooks that I really want, including the one I missed on auction at e-Bay. But I look at the shelf-and-a-bit of unread stuff, recall that I just made a book club order, and think, "When would I get to them?")
I always used to read over supper.
Colin prefers to watch TV. (This sounds backwards to those who know we don't get cable, and get the few stations we can receive in triplicate. What can I say? DVDs are wonderful ways to catch up on odd viewing.)
Nothing wrong with watching TV, at least when the TV in question is the Muppets, or Firefly, or Barney Miller.
It also lets us feel we're doing something together, sharing something even though we're not talking, especially when we're done the food but not the episode, and we cuddle up a bit on the couch. (Cuddling. Always a plus!) It's not a deep sharing of company, but it's a tangible one, the more when we can quote in-jokes, and sue the shows as a conversation topic on other times.
But I've been really craving good books lately. And the good books are on the shelf, in the house, but I'm not getting to get to them. I haven't stopped by any means, but it gets done in small drabs, or by taking a night off writing.
I used to watch TV shows at length only when I had a lump of clay in hand, or a bowl in need of decoration, or a dress to sew. (The first two made a mess of the futon, even though I had a plastic layer over my lap, and sometimes a sheet, too. But I could live with that - clay is basically dust, and vacuums up from the futon, and wipes off the table, pretty well. Actually, the threads from the third option are the worst, for all they look the least like horrific mess.)
I don't want to take reading time out of my writing time. My writing time has been small enough. I don't want to take too much out of my Colin-time, either; I'm not in this relationship for archery nights and special occasions only.
I guess it's that old problem that so many of my hobbies are essentially solitary, yet I want to spend time with him, and share things. Writing is a necessity, and he's understanding about that. He's also understanding about out-of-the-house things like choir or SCA dance practice, that he's not involved in by his own choice. I don't want to add more to the pile.
Gack! I WANT them to make the change to my work hours NOW, thank you! That would give me new hours in the day for reading or writing or whatever I please, and I wouldn't have to choose between the person I care about and the activities I'm missing.
(I'm also thinking about this because I could, right this instant, pick up 5 books cheap off Abebooks that I really want, including the one I missed on auction at e-Bay. But I look at the shelf-and-a-bit of unread stuff, recall that I just made a book club order, and think, "When would I get to them?")
