Category Archives: Humble pie

I started reading my first e-book a few days ago on my iPad. I’d been reluctant to convert from paper and ink because I worried the screen would strain my eyes and I knew that no feeling could match that of physically turning a page.

I guess I wasn’t as devoted to the book as I thought because already I can see that this is a much better way of reading. Eleanor is no longer able to yank the bookmark from its spot. I can read at night in bed without needing a lamp while Greg sleeps. No matter how many e-books I carry with me, my iPad weighs the same amount.

But all of this raises so many questions. I expect that most other people will eventually conclude the same things I have (though maybe not), which means printed books will gradually die out. Will wealthy people still have libraries in their homes? (That has always been a dream of mine.) Will we still have brick-and-mortar libraries? Will future children be weaklings because they haven’t lugged 20-pound backpacks?

Most importantly, will actual books become really, really valuable? I’m asking because one of the most consistent conflicts in my marriage to Greg is our debate over books. Greg thinks people should keep in their homes every book that they have ever bought. I think that a book should be sold or given away unless you might want to read it again. But if books are going to become really valuable, then that would make Greg right, wouldn’t it?

Maybe I should go back to paper and ink.

Perhaps this site needs a new category: misery.

My last life update included tales of snake attacks and broken air-conditioners. On top of that, I will be losing my job in the coming months, though that is a story for another time. Apparently my body felt that it needed to have a more serious response to all of this stress, and so last week I developed shingles.

I didn’t think life could get better, hurtling toward the swelter of a Texas summer while seven months pregnant. But it did.

I’m annoyed by the cheery-sounding name when this virus really should be called tarantulitis or something similarly horrible. Shingles is essentially a flare-up of the chicken pox virus. A nerve in your back goes haywire, causing a hideous rash (Do not Google it!) around your midsection. While the rash itself itches, the deranged nerve causes the whole area to burn. What a party!

The one interesting part of shingles is that, for me at least, it caused an intense physical response to stress and worry. I walked over to the park with Greg and Eleanor one night, and on the way back, Eleanor tripped. Seeing her stumble made the rash burn. And hearing Abe bark made the rash burn.

Have you read the Harry Potter books? Because this might be starting to sound familiar — a source of danger causing the skin to burn. Do you see? Harry Potter didn’t have some mysterious scar. He had shingles! That boy wizard has nothing on me.