When I was a kid, I loved to read. I remember spending dark, gloomy Saturdays reading books I’d taken out of the library at school, or our county library – to which I was a card-carrying member from a very early age.
As an adult, I’m ashamed to say that I’m lucky to read more than one book a year.
It’s my own fault, ultimately, for not taking the time to do it. The time is there, but the will doesn’t always follow.