Before I walked down the stairs at home, I warned my husband that he was about to witness something extraordinary.
The transformation from regular to extraordinary took only a few minutes and as I emerged at the top of the stairs, I did a small "ta,da" and pirouette to mark the moment.
My husband asked me just exactly what was so extraordinary.
As I gestured to what I was gripping in my hand, he asked me again what was so special.
The moment could have been whittled away with his lack of observation, but I remained buoyant, a curious sensation given the fact that I had just altered the course of my life and the principals governing it.
In my hand, dear readers, was a book. But this wasn’t just any book. This was a book I had read before. Yes, you heard it for the first time and, seeing as this is all about repetition, I may as well say it twice. This was a book I had read before.
I hear the sharp inhale of breath. I imagine the hands covering the mouth. I see the glazed staring eyes, unblinking with shock.
And so I shall risk it yet again. This was a book I had read before.
A gentle reminder here may be required. Because anyone who knows me knows that I don’t read books twice. I don’t see movies twice. I don’t visit holiday destinations twice.
I like the idea of discovery and of doing these things once and once only. These are my standards and until that fateful morning, I had maintained them.
I have been a witness to my own standards slipping over a long period of time. She who does not like fridge magnets has a plethora of them. She who doesn’t like things under beds has all manner of things snugly tucked below. Life is like that. Fridge magnets are handy little things for putting up little notes and invitations and sometimes under the bed is just the ticket for flat things.
But to date, no book in the book case (and there are many) has been read twice. But desperate times call for extraordinary life changing exceptions. Sometimes you haven’t got to the library or had a review book to read. Sometimes when that bedside table is bare, any book will do.
I am enjoying the book as it turns out. I just might grab another.
