Umm...yeah. This is a hard question. I have a bunch of definitions of home. Home is a number of places, some that I no longer reside at and some that I no longer have any kind of connection to.
And the home I decided on was one of those no connection places.
We lived in the same house until I was fifteen and the books that remind me of that house are the Little House books. I remember waking up before everyone else and reading in bed until my dad kicked me out to go to school. And then I'd read at the table (if I could get away with it) and in my desk at school and as soon as I got home from school. I was like that with lots of books, but I remember reading the Little House books in particular. It was winter and it was still dark and cold when I woke up, but it was worth it! Years later I reread The Long Winter for a class and it was dark and winter then too and I remember feeling the blizzard and having to be wrapped in a quilt the whole time.
Reading was a big part of growing up for me - my parents, sisters and many of my friends were also voracious readers. Because I read growing up, I still read now, so picking one single book to represent home was not an easy tasks.
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