The problem with books

The problem with books is that they make me want to ditch all the practical, everyday things I am supposed to be doing with my time. You might be tempted to believe that the problem seems to be with ME rather than with books, but I assure you that you are mistaken.

I went to the library last weekend. God, I love libraries. Lovely places just bursting with books (and movies! and music!). And they let you take things home! For free! And if they don't have a book you want just hanging around, they will have one delivered from another nearby-ish library. Also for free! It is a magical place, I tell you.

But the point is, I checked out some "just for fun" books. And started reading. And didn't want to spend any time over the weekend without a book in my hands. And, to be frank, the book I was reading wasn't even that good (it was fine, but not great, not a real page turner). But reading is just so delicious.



Speaking of delicious: cookbooks. Specifically, the newest addition to my collection: Love Soup. Now, you might think that a cookbook would not give me the problem mentioned above. After all, cooking ends with food. To eat. Which is pretty darn practical. But then why did I spend all my post-baby-bedtime time last night looking at cookbooks and even cooking food, only to realize around 8:30 that I had no plan for dinner? I do have an interesting little eggplant and roasted garlic dip as an appetizer for tonight. (Why did no one tell me roasting garlic was so easy? Seriously, people. I needed to know that. I could have been roasting garlic all this time, but I have not been!) And I have plenty of new plans for future (soupy) dinners.



Another problematic book I'm dealing with right now: Wee Wonderfuls. So much awesome! Why would I want to spend time sewing nice practical things like a tablecloth or curtains when I could be sewing the cutest little toys ever? I hope Adelaide likes stuffed toys, because she's going to be getting some.

Though I am proud to say I actually did pull myself away from my bookish world this weekend long enough to sew the tablecloth. Which is good, because it was terribly easy and should have been done long, long ago. But more on that another time.