Is it any surprise that a writer’s greatest indulgence is reading? At least, it is mine. I love taking the car for an oil change or waiting a long time in the 
dentist’s office because that affords me guilt-free reading time. Five hours between flights? Gosh, that’s too bad. I guess I’ll just have to read. Thirty minutes between ordering my meal and receiving it? Darn it, I’ll be forced to open this book I have in my purse.
I rejoice in moments like this outside the house because when I’m home there is always something to do that if I don’t do it I feel guilty. But if I’m out of the house and virtually stuck, well, what’s a girl to do? It’s why I always have something with me to read—a book in my purse, a book in the car, my Kindle in the passenger seat. One never knows when a traffic light will stretch out long enough to read a paragraph or two.
So this photo shows a double indulgence: reading with my hubby. (Full disclosure, that man is not my husband. He’s cute, though.) 
The reason this is such a welcome indulgence is this. Jack grew up with dyslexia in the dark days when dyslexia wasn’t really recognized as a problem. When we grew up, if you couldn’t read it was because you didn’t try hard enough, or you didn’t read enough (figure that one out!), or you were stupid. I despaired of his ever reading anything other than technical manuals or the IRS guidelines. Now, with text to speech programs, he can listen to books and we actually spend quiet evenings “reading” together. It’s a together time that I love!
Now that summer is here, I can envision me with my Kindle on a beach somewhere, just like this. 
Of course, I don’t look anything like this young lady (sadly), I don’t really enjoy beaches, and I burn if I’m out in the sun more than ten minutes. But I have the Kindle, so life is still good! Happy reading, summer, winter, fall, and spring!
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.
Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!
met (met again, actually) the younger version of the man I married, I let Dear Diary know first. It was really a great thing to do.
Years. Like writing every day, I need to develop the habit of keeping a journal (“journal” sounds so much more mature than “diary”). Where is that Kick-Me-in-the-Butt machine I need to remind me of good habits to form?
and night, and never worried a bit. Within a year of having a cell phone and I nearly had hives when I realized I’d taken off from home one day and had forgotten my phone. I can’t remember a single time in years that I needed the stupid thing and suddenly it had become a technological device I was afraid to be without. Even now, when half of our town is within walking distance, I get antsy if I don’t have my phone.
was. Then hubby updated out phone contract and came home with iPhones. Now I have real addresses and email addresses in it, I read the news on it, I Google and read and yes, play Solitaire on it. I use the calendar and keep notes and set alarms. I have become attached. I hate it, but what’s a girl to do? The technological heart wants what the technological heart wants. Sigh.
As far back as I remember I would make up scenes with fictitious characters. Sometimes I would jot them down, but I never took them seriously, I would collect them, but they would always end up in the circular file. Gasp!
She never expected to be in this situation, so doesn’t know anything about being a detective or solving cases. She’s not going to let that deter her, especially after landing her first big client and a missing persons case. She tries her best to hang with the pros. Problem is, she’s got this annoying and unfortunately extremely attractive FBI agent that keeps reminding her of her amateur status. She’s not looking for a new love, but she runs into a guy from her past that is trying to change her mind. And, well I mentioned the hot agent…so I’m not sure her heart is going to listen to her head. She’s got to learn to trust her instincts in order to succeed, but will she be able to do that before someone gets hurt?
Andi Ramos is a debut author from central Massachusetts where she lives with her family, goat, and Boston Terriers. Her love for reading grew into a passion for writing. She dabbled with pen and paper for a long time and eventually stopped pushing her amusements aside and started developing those stories into novels. One of her favorite things to do is to hop into her motorhome with her family and write while traveling down the road as they journey to various destinations.
The South was well-known for having girls’ schools and boys’ schools, and never the twain shall meet. During my day, UVA was all male except for certain disciplines in junior and senior years. (This changed during my junior year when the twains did meet and UVA became co-ed, at which time Mary Washington became simply Mary Washington College.) I didn’t know where Fredericksburg was in relation to where Jack might end up going to school, but at least I would be back in Virginia—if I was accepted. And, thankfully, I was.
My trip north to sleepy Fredericksburg allowed me to meet people that have continued to touch my life, gave me my first taste of independence, and introduced me other adventures I’d have missed had I taken the easy route of staying in Florida for school. In many ways, it was life changing. And—as important—it was fun!