Yesterday, while the entire country was worrying over the election, my son (23 and in college) was worrying about his paper on African American's during the gold rush. There is VERY little on this subject and all of the books that even mention this were checked out by another student in his class. So, my son requested the very same books from the public library--just not in time to be helpful. Mom to the rescue. One of the books was on the shelf at the Antelope library. We drove over there. I even stopped and bought my son a iced tea lemonade/black tea no sweetner at Starbucks on the way home. Oh, to be the hero of the day! Then my son comes out to where I am reading and tells me the book didn't help him at all and he found a selection of essays he could use. Turns out he needed four hundred more words and was running out of ways to make his sentences go farther.
I am still of the opinion that he should be grateful--and he is. Over the weekend he was lamenting about how little there was and I came up with two books from our own little "library" that he could use. People--my sister, my friends--come over to my house and ask, "why do you need all these books?" We have so many books--fiction, history, encyclopedias (7 sets and counting), cookbooks, quilting books, time life series. I love to read and my husband loves his history. So, there is a reason why I keep my books. After all, who reads a book only once????