Books, Bread, Bumma

I put the "book" part of bookczuk to use in many ways, either through my love of reading, embracing the joy of the feel of a book in hand, talking with others about literature, or through the simple art of bookcrossing -- sharing books by leaving them in a public place to be picked up and read by others, who then do likewise. 

Books wanting to become BookCrossing books often stumble into my path, eager to be set up with that all important BCID, the number that lets their journey be traced on www.bookcrossing.com as they travel the world. When books I have previously read come my way again, it is my habit to find my old reviews and enter them into the new copy as well, for half the joy of finding a book and coming to the site is to see where it has been and what others thought.

This morning, while registering some serendipitous finds, I came across Bread Alone, by Judi Hendricks. It had been sent by another BookCrosser, in a large box of books, to be donated to one of the local BookCrossing book exchange shelves.  From that copy, I found my review, and faithfully pasted it into the journal for the edition in my hands.
 
The best part about looking up this review, though, was seeing a review written by my darling mother, bumma, after she read the book in June of 2008. Bumma was the one who led me on the path of books. She taught me the golden rules of life: practice kindness, keep hope, a good cup of tea is a fine cure-all, always carry a book with you to help pass the long waits that life sometimes brings. She had an amazing spirit -- one that still is vibrant today, three years after her death.  And so, on this rainy June morning, as I sipped my tea, I read her thoughts on Bread Alone. (The caps and other typing idiosyncrasies are completely hers.)

Despite the fact that I picked this up from my daughter's hand and not at a BookCrossing Meeting or in the wild, I was glad to read it.

The backdrop of the bakery, its employees, its product were interesting to meet and follow.

Bread making IS exciting.
ONE OF THE DEAREST MEMORIES I HAVE IS MIXING THE INGREDIENTS FOR A LOAF OF BREAD IN FRONT OF MY SON'S THIRD GRADE CLASS, LETTING THEM SEE IT RISE, BAKNG IT AND SERVING THEM SLICES. IWOLD HAVE ENJOYED TRYING SOMEOF THE RECIPES INCLUDED.

My beloved mother died the following June.  Here it is, three Junes later, and we're still sharing a book and a cup of tea.