I have always loved to read. When I was an eager reader in elementary school, I selected books based on thickness to insure that they would last as long as possible.
When I was in junior high and high school, I did some traveling with my grandparents. They usually took a cross-country road trip in their Silver Streak luxury trailer that lasted from June until October. My sister and I would meet them en route for two to three weeks.
What's odd is that I don't remember taking a stack of books with me. Now when I go on vacation, taking just the right books with me is critical--the right mix of fiction and non-fiction, light and heavy reading, and the right number of pages to last throughout my trip, yet not so many that I am carrying unnecessary weight.
I know that I did read, because as we drove, I remember being chastised by my grandfather to "Get your nose out of that book! You can read at home! This is God's country--open your eyes and look around!"
To some extent, I read what my grandmother was reading, or what was in the trailer. I remember reading Joni Eareckson Tada's autobiography, the Janette Oke Love Came Softly series, alongside celebrity biographies on Princess Di and Jackie O.
We still share some books, but it's now more often I who am sharing them with her. I introduced her to the Mitford series, and later found Phillip Gulley's Harmony series when she wanted something similar.
Author Tina Ann Forkner's guest column at 5 Minutes for Books, My Grandma Taught Me to Love Books, inspired these thoughts. I know that I recently said that the Books on Screen is one of my favorite features over there, and it is, but I am enjoying the regular On Reading feature as well.