Maybe it's because it's not my habit. Maybe it has to do with being forbidden, or that it's hidden away beneath the covers. But I get a secret thrill every time I find someone else's handwriting in a book. All kinds of handwriting.
Straightforward: AUTOGRAPHS
Many Things Have Happened Since He Died and Here Are the Highlights
This wasn't an early printing. Someone -- I picture a tightfisted typesetter grumbling about the price of ink -- chopped the legs out from under the title of this lovely book.
What a fun surprise though, to find an autographed library book. I wonder about 14-year-ago Elizabeth Dewberry (Vaughn at that time), and what brought her to sign it.
Did I miss her reading at Springville Road, my old library? She grew up in Birmingham. Was she bored enough on a trip home to sneak between the stacks and practice guerilla signings? Maybe she just donated the copy.
And why does it say "teen readers"? It wasn't in the Young Adult section, and it certainly didn't strike me as a teen book.
Perfectly acceptable: GIFT DEDICATIONS
Holiday Tales
I'm not Jewish, but I enjoy reading about religions, so I was bound to gravitate towards this book.
But when I opened it up and found it already dedicated, to me, it sealed the deal.
I'm filled with questions about this other Karen. How did her book travel from South Africa to a thrift store in Boaz? She would have been almost exactly five years younger than me -- surely she's not dead. (So young!)
But why, after bringing it all that way, would she give up this book? Did she lose her religion? After moving to Alabama, was she overrun by Southern Baptists? Did she tire of musty old pages from her young adulthood? Or did she just lose it in a move?
Audacity: TALKING BACK
The Day I Became an Autodidact
I read updates on this author all the time. She's Kendall Hailey, who's married to Danny Miller, the blogger behind Jew Eat Yet. Talk about your fated relationships... before they ever met, her book fell on his head! I bought my copy from Ebay, since it's out of print now.
The previous owner liked jotting comments in the margins.
Rather smarty-pants comments, most of the time.
But he ran out of steam after my favorite one:
I'm assuming it was at this point that the scribbler decided he was funny enough to write his own book. Wonder what it's called?
Contemplating...
Okay... here are the rules to this award:"When accepting this award, you must blog about the food you have stolen when your humans were not watching. If you have never stolen any food, you must have been a really good pup! You can accept this yummy tray of cookies as your reward! Next, add the logo of this award to your blog (optional), then nominate at least 5 other furry blogs and let them know by leaving a message on their blogs."Well... I don't know if there's any "oops" to it, except mama's and dad's incompetence at catching me heheh! I weighed 64 pounds when I came to my furever home in May 2007. By the end of September, I had gained 18 pounds. Here's how:In the first week, I destroyed an alarm clock, ate half a warm gingerbread cake and a potholder, two duck stuffies and a goose one. I munched on the contents of all bath waste baskets, worked on part of a door (plexiglas); when my attempts failed, I knocked it out and jumped outside to freedom. I bit and tore at two screen doors for freedom too. Then I found some form of food on a hike that contained marijuana - later it was not a pretty sight and required emergency vet treatment. Ate back hall carpet, a down pillow, 3 training bumpers, Ozzie's food, both wet and dry, breaking a dish in my attempts to get at it. Ate 2 cardboard boxes where mom's manuscripts resided. I ate corners of blankets, 2 of my Dad's shoes (not a match), apples and plums from backyard trees (that's why there's a wire fence out back today). I uprooted all the garden carrots I could find as well as mom's strawberries and tomatoes. Back in the house, I found two nicely cooked turkey breasts on the counter (WHERE were my keepers?) - got 'em plus a pound of raw turkey meat later that week. I'm very, very fast, and by now, very fat.Ma put me on a strict diet, but that didn't stop me from trying on walks, trails and open space. I'd gobble any poo I could find - horse, deer, bunny or - at home, kitty roca. Disgusting but rare, any upchuck available. I will steal anything from mom's office waste basket that's non-recyclable. She has to watch what she tosses in there. Kitchen trash can is always a major target, but I really can't get to it anymore. I did manage to score three of dad's socks. But the peeps are watching me much more carefully and I'm very hungry, poor me. I think that's why I went for the G-L-O-V-E. What a fiasco that was. It was that event that really put me on constant surveillance. A dropped doggie treat, meant for another pup, or a grandpeep's carelessly held snack is my only fair game these days and it's been tough. However, I was back to a trim 64 pounds a few months later, where I've stayed for a long time. And that's the truth of my sicko crimelife. I need a program! I know that so many of you have posted about this tag, so please, if you haven't received this award, I'd love you to take it and blog about it! I will read it - every word, drooling.Hugs xoSammie Pee Ess: I must, however, tag three particular bloggers, cause I'd really like to hear about the ingestions of stolen foodables (or non!)Tucker and DaisyMason DixieThe Rocky Creek Scotties
