“Mommy when are you gonna take me to the library?”
“I hope they have the next book in the series checked in!!”
I used to beg my mom to take me to the library. It was one of the places that I most loved to go. The door to the library was a heavy door, difficult to open. Once opened, the smell of old wood hit you as the children’s library was in a old house of some sort or old barn converted to a library. The floors creaked as you walked around on the red carpet. The card catalog was at the front by the door and the check out / return desk was to the right of that. Saturday’s was library day. Each week I sped read my way through a book, usually done before Saturday. When Saturday finally rolled around, I couldn’t wait to get my next book in the series. I did not have look through the drawers of the card catalog or ask where I could find the books, as I already knew where my books were housed. They were in the back left corner of the library, bottom shelf, next to a window. Each visit, I frantically searched for the next book in the Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little House on the Prairie series.
Got it!
Everything and Nothing ...you decide. 