When i was young and i mean 6 or 7 years old, I was reading Charles Dickens “Great Expectations”. It’s strange to me that other people dont read for pleasure, and for me it all goes back to Great Expectations. I was hooked from the first line, I didnt start reading it ofcourse my mother read it to me to begin with, but i got frustrated at the time it took, and the fact that I had to wait till night time to hear the next part of the story. So I begged mum to let me read it myself, sure that if i could handle the spot books i could handle Great Expectations.

And in a way I was right. Sure it was painfull, I can only imagine the pain that Mum went through as I stutterd out and vainly tried to grap the language before me.  I mean can you imagine, not only was it (and still is) a complex book, but it is in the formal english style of the 1800′s, an unfamiliar language to a 7 year old.  But she perserverd and in the end, i completed the book.

Thanks Mum.

Heres one for you.

A single childhood memory, doesnt have to be a momentous time in your life, or especially poignant, it doesnt need to reveal anything about you, just needs to be true. A single moment from your childhood. Post em at your blogs if you want to or dont. But sometimes its fun to remember.

Added some people to my blogroll, Take the chance to get to know them one and all. Good peoples.

Out
- dont touch the bubble