Since I was little, I have been a bookworm. One New Year's Eve, when I was 8 or 9, after the clock had struck midnight and we had all run around the house with luggage (to ensure we would travel a lot the coming year), eaten 12 grapes (good luck for every month to come) and drank champagne (to celebrate like an "adult") I stole away to one of my...
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Since I was little, I have been a bookworm. One New Year's Eve, when I was 8 or 9, after the clock had struck midnight and we had all run around the house with luggage (to ensure we would travel a lot the coming year), eaten 12 grapes (good luck for every month to come) and drank champagne (to celebrate like an "adult") I stole away to one of my favorite places in our house; the laundry room.
I have a HUGE family, and when we celebrate anything it is a big to-do, so you can just imagine the kind of blow-out we have at the end of the year. Anyway...the laundry room was always warm and full of readily available freshly laundered blankets or towels to wrap myself in. The somewhat sound proof walls (due to the lulling hum coming from the boiler in the corner of the room) along with the floating smells of Tide and Bounce sheets made for a safe haven from the crazy goings-on of the adults upstairs. I cuddled up with my stowaway pillow and my first book of the year. I figured if I started off reading a good book on New Year's Day, the rest of my year would be full of deliciously fruitful literary adventures.
With that being said, I never looked back. TV and movies are nothing compared to cracking open the spine of an old & musty or fresh-off-the-presses & crease-free book. Meeting the new characters in any book is like making new friends on the first day of school, you're skeptical at first, but you then realize who will make you laugh, who will make you cry and who will be the one to influence your life forever.
And that is when the adventures really begin.
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