The Bookworm tagged me for this meme, which I’ve done before, in May of ‘06, a few weeks before Isabella was born; but I feel like playing again.
The two different books (from ‘06 and today) seem emblematic of the two stages of my life, and of all the changes that have occurred in the past two years. As then, I am pregnant, eagerly awaiting an impending birth. But I’m a mother now and I can’t imagine my life without Isabella. The last time I played the book was a collection of essays, edited by Louise Cowan, called The Tragic Abyss. I don’t think I was actually reading it; I think I was looking up something for my sister to help her with a paper she was working on. Nonetheless, I was obviously in a much more academic mode then than I am now.
First, the rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.
The nearest book that fits the requirements and that’s not on the bookshelf is Mad About Madeline: The Complete Tales. I’ve just finished reading the original Madeleine story (the first one in the book) to Isabella about six times in a row and then told her no more and sent her off to play with her blocks.
Anyway, there is no sentence on p 123. But the sentence that begins on p 122 and is finished on p 124-126 is as follows: “Poor Madeline would now be dead / But for a dog / That kept its head / And dragged her safe from a watery grave.”
I rather like that sentence. This morning I feel like I’m waiting for some dog to come and drag me out of a watery place. Not a grave, mind you, but I feel submerged, foggy. Tired. And it’s my own fault for staying up too late.
I should probably go for a walk with Bella. She’d like that. But I think it’s about 13 degrees outside right now and I don’t want to leave my comfy chair with blankets on my lap and a big mug of Earl Grey decaf sitting next to me on the arm of the futon.
So there, a little picture of my morning, courtesy of The Bookworm.
I won’t tag anyone else because that would take far too much effort. But feel free to play along.
Update
I just realized I didn’t actually follow the meme’s rules, which said I should post the next 3 sentences. But I went to the next three pages, which I think was sufficient.
So true! My kids beg to have Daddy give them a bath. All I can think of is “I have three baths to give tonight, plus get the laundry that’s piled on the beds folded so we can all go to bed eventually,” while Daddy lets them take their time and splash around in the bath. Thank God for Daddies!
This post reminded of one of my favorite stories. A good friend of my mother was married to a man who was 26 years older than she was. They had three sons. One night it snowed a lovely snow and the dad got the boys out of bed at three in the morning to have a snowball fight and cocoa by the fire. He said that he knew he wouldn’t be there as long as many fathers (he was 52 when they got married) so he had to create special memories…