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I spent this past weekend immersed in books and children: A boy on a scooter, still in his baseball uniform. Whispered bedtime secrets and earnest declarations. Two little girls with pockets full of tiny rainbow-colored ponies. And in between, books. 

I’ve been nose-first in a book since May 2nd, when I handed off the Kindergarten Quilt and decided to just read for a while. The library and I are reacquainted. (Hello, old friend!) I brought home two books, and then three more, and then another two….I burned through books, particularly middle-grade novels. The Ghosts of Tupelo Landing sent me back to the library for its predecessor, Three Times Lucky. (I do love a quirky pre-teen narrator.) I read E.L. Konigsburg and two mysteries and a handful of picture books. And just as I thought I was losing steam I flipped through the first few pages of The Book Thief.

I know – hasn’t everyone already read this? I am only 30 pages in. Don’t tell me what happens.

So far I am caught by the language of this book. I don’t often stop to re-read and ponder phrases, but I have here. We will see about the plot. I thought I’d had enough of Nazi atrocities for a while after reading Code Name Verity, which is why this book sat at the bottom of the pile for two weeks, but I am intrigued. So my reading spree continues, at least for a few more days.

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