Picadilly

22 June 2012

For the love of a good book

When I was a child I use to walk up the road to my mom’s workplace after school. I’d pop in say hello, and then run across the road to the library. There I would stay until the librarian would remind me it is 16:30 – home time. I grew up in a library. I grew up surrounded by books. 

Today I cannot walk into a bookshop without walking out with a book, or two, and I never give a book away or sell it. As a teenager I read SweetValley, give me a break ok, I’m a girl. I actually started collecting the books and had well over 250 books (ranging from Sweet Valley Kids to University). In Varsity I gave it away. Yup, GAVE IT AWAY. I regret it more than accidently spilling acetone on my iPhone 4. I swore never again. Hence, I keep every book I buy. 

I realise that in another 10 years I might need a room to store my books in, which suits me fine. In fact my aim is to one day have a reading room with a large comfy chair, fireplace and bookshelves of all shapes and sizes. Here is a walk through my perfect reading room;


Minus the ornaments and wasted cupboard space. Visualise rows and rows of books.


I simply love this bookshelf! In fact I have convinced bf that one day when we have children, yes my Trend Stalking friend plural, this will be the centrepiece of the child’s room. Except it’ll be the child’s name.


I love open and airy spaces so another window would be fabulous! With the chair of course, comfort is important if you are planning on spending hours reading.


 I spotted this canoe-bookshelf at a shop in Clarens. I think it’ll fit in well with my collection of bookshelves.  

Now what would a reading room be without a fireplace? The stepladder isn’t a bad idea either.


Here are some other bookshelf ideas which I simply love, and will have to make space for;


 

Now you must think I am crazy considering that we live in a digital world and I can have every single book I desire on one device. I have the Kindle app for my iPad, and every other book app you can think of, but it is simply not the same. I love turning a page and the smell of books. As long as I am around, print will never go out of fashion, all for the love of a good book.

Best I go and pick bf off the floor. Once he sees this, he will faint – guaranteed. 

For fabulous, practical, easy to implement, home ideas visit www.thefurnishingtouch.co.za.

20 June 2012

Lessons learned from a man named Robert

A friend once told me that people come into your life for reasons, seasons or a lifetime. It amazes me that some lessons can come from the most untraditional source, someone who is briefly in your life. For me, it is a man named Robert. 

Never judge a book by its cover. It is an old lesson I try and live my life by, especially after meeting Robert. His life story, passion, humour and confidence in who he, quickly taught me that there is so much more to a person than the exterior.

It’s not what you are, it’s about who you are. This lesson combines with the one above. Who you are is what is inside of you – your gender, race, hair colour and eye colour doesn’t matter. What matters is who you are. 

Fairy tales happen. Robert and his wife’s love, and like of each other, blossomed from friendship, through one of the biggest transformations a man could go through. Real life fairy tales are when your partner knows your past, goes through your present with you and is willing to be there in your future. 

There is a difference between love and like. This was probably one of the hardest lessons I have ever had to learn. I remember Robert asking me once if I like my boyfriend, my immediate reaction was “I love him”. It was only when I found myself in a situation where I truly loved someone, but no longer liked them, that Robert’s words came flooding back to me – “you can love someone with your whole heart, but do you like the person?”

Know who you are. This lesson inspired the blog entry you are reading now. A few years ago Robert signed my copy of “Trans”, his life story appears in the book. At the time I looked at the message and though, “how odd, what is that suppose to mean?” A few days ago I picked up the book and read the message again, I now get it;


And to answer Robert’s question from back then, no, “Foxy” was never a part of my identity.

It is a message from a man named Robert that made me realise I know who I am – the good and the bad – I know.

About the scribbler

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Lover of cats, books and red wine. Wife and mom-to-be.

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