I don’t mean this to be any shameless self-promotion for my husband’s blog, but, hey, if that’s one of the side effects, I’ll not refuse it. Bob has always loved dinosaurs, and all things big and monster-y. He would get in trouble in school for drawing those big, green lizards instead of paying attention in class, and now as he approaches retirement, he’s allowing his childhood fantasies to turn into adult aspirations. I’ve even encouraged him to take up pen and ink and start illustrating his own books, and in so doing, I’ve created a monster of my own! (Kidding—“behind every great man there stands…”)
So his site, Pneumythology, deals with mythical stories and beasts of incredible imagination (not just his own, but throughout history) as well as eliciting inferences from the superheroes of ancient Rome and Greece and DC and Marvel.
I’m not literary, to begin with. My school-age years were spent during the golden age of this somewhat new-fangled thing called television, and it was easier to watch Ed Sullivan than it was to read a book. Thankfully, when our oldest child was a tender toddler, I found my way to the local library of the small town that was our current home. Thus began a love affair with books for my children (and me!) that has never stopped.
The girls flew the coop years ago, but somehow Bob and I started reading together; that is, he reads to me while I crochet in my rocking chair. Seriously. We look like we’re posing for a Norman Rockwell painting. So the classics I never read are still available (children’s included) and we’re picking them off one by one.
Case in point: The Three Musketeers. I don’t know why Dumas called it that, since the there are really four; nonetheless, it was fun, and the author does a good job at developing the unique character of each persona, so we decided to read the sequel. (I don’t recommend it, unless you’re into literature for the sake of literature. Me? I just want to be summarily entertained, which Continue reading “Better than d’Artagnan”