As a little kid, summer always meant books. Not school books – library books. I remember walking down to the library, my ABC book-bag in hand, with my two brothers and mom pushing my little sister in the stroller (only four of us then!). Mom would fill out our log books and we’d add a star or some other paper cutout to our streamers for each book we read or a parent had read to us. And then we’d pick out new books and, if you were old enough to write your name, check them out on your very own library card. A last trudge up the hill to home and finally, we’d be home with a fresh batch of books to read in front of the fan.

Yes, summer always meant books.

In the last few days, we’ve gone from balmy 70 degree temps (delicious May weather) straight to 90+ degrees. I know, I know…those of you who live in southern, warmer regions – I can hear you laughing at me (and I can’t blame you – I have to admit to snickering to myself occasionally when I hear that 50-60 degrees is sweater weather for you guys!), but hey, I plead the case of not having air-conditioning in my workplace or in the portion of the house where I sleep.

Warm, sticky…allergies wreaking havoc. Ah yes, it’s summer all right.

Complaining about an early summer aside – summer still does, to an extent, mean books to me. There is just something about the warm weather that makes me want to go to the library and find something new and intriguing to read – or an old childhood favorite. I don’t think I’ll go quite as far back to the 1st grade and Nate the Great, but I just might pick up something by Beverly Cleary. I’m in the mood for a little Ramona Quimby.

Does summertime make you want to join a reading club again? Or are you a winter bookworm, content to read by the fire when it’s too cold to play outside?