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Like Cool posted a picture of those old fashioned ways of cutting, pasting and deleting.
Not sure what their real names are? Book Google them. You know Book Google don’t you?. “When you need to figure out something, so you look it up in a book, like in the olden times, when dinosaurs ruled the earth.”
Soggy, in one word, that sums up the day. I remember a few years ago, before we moved here permanently, the boys and I spent a month or so up here during the summer. It was a perfect summer and not just because of the haze of memories, but rather the days for the most part were completely and totally without rain. I don’t think that the whole time we were here, we had a rainy day. We did, however, have many, many rainy nights. It seemed to shower every night; the soft patter of rain hitting the metal roof was soothing to sleep by – reminded me of camping. Every morning though the sun came out and dried everything. Perfect weather.
This summer -well it’s off to a soggy start. It’s cold and it’s damp. The seedlings on my growing rack would love to go outside and be planted, but the weather just isn’t cooperating. When it’s sunny and beautiful, I’m working – when I’m not, it’s raining. Maybe tomorrow, although the forecast is not looking good.
We did, however despite the weather have a really nice day. Tom, Tim and I went down to Manchester to Bob’s Diner for lunch (awesome milkshakes and locally grown beefalo burgers) and then headed off to Northshire. A perfect place to spend a rainy afternoon – browsing books and reading in the cafe with a nice hot cup of cappucino, next to my bestest friend. A good way to spend a very, very soggy day.
Everything old is new again…isn’t that the way that the saying goes? We have a collection of the Calvin and Hobbes books on our bookshelf. They have been a part of our family right around the time we became a family or at least since we became a married couple. I always enjoyed the humor of little Calvin and his all-knowing Hobbes.
One of my favorite pieces of furniture in our house is the bookcase in our living room. It is a simple, too small, crammed glass doored bookshelf. It holds memories and fantasies, love stories and breakups, horror and history all within its shelves. Nestled in there are the collection of Calvin and Hobbes books. Since we have had the boys, the books have come out many times. More often than not, a cycle will come where a boy will pull out one of the books and it will become attached to him for days, weeks even a month or two. They pour over the strips, laughing out loud to themselves, enjoying these comics, just as I did, well before they were even a desire, much less a reality.
Well, the books have made their way out of the bookshelf once again, now being enjoyed by my youngest son. He pulls the book out and sits and reads, laughing to himself and recounting for me, whenever I might be able to listen, about how funny this or that strip was and how he giggled at it.
Bill Watterson should enjoy knowing that his work, almost all of it penned well before they were even born, is entertaining a whole new generation of readers, my sons.