Harry Potter

Okay, so I am late to the Harry Potter bandwagaon, but after reading the first three books, I'm hooked.

I was friends with a bookstore owner when the first book came out, so there was always this talk about Harry Potter. I wasn't really interested in them since I've never been a fan of either YA books or elves and wizards books. When I was YA age, I didn't read YA books... except for Judy Blume, but I read them in elementary school.

Anyway, I picked up the first HP book in the Austin airport. I started to read Nick Hornby's How to be Good on the way back from DC. I was going to take it with to finish on the way back from Austin, but I can't find it. I figured HP was light and easy and a good thing for the plane ride. I had more than half of it done by the time I made it back to Memphis. I finished it the next weekend.

I started the second one while sitting at the reference desk the following week. Finished it while at the desk the following Sunday. I read the third one this weekend since it was too hot to go outside... and because after getting bitten (and I mean four puncture wounds) by my cat after I thought he'd broken his leg (long story), it was kind of relaxing.

But you know, I was not encourage after the second one. I decided I was going to read them all, but I wasn't crazy about book one. It was hard to imagine it becoming the phenomenon it became. I thought the writing was poor, the characters dull. The second one was better, but still... Everyone kept telling me the third one was where Rowling really hit her stride. And they were right. The third one is it.

Yes, I am hooked.

Oh, and yes, I was concerned that Alexsi had broken his leg. He was on the coffee table when he fell off--but he got his back foot caught in my table. So, he fell off the table, but he was hanging by his foot and thrashing around and howling and screeching. I jumped up and grabbed him. Being in pain and freaked out, he lashed out at the first thing he could--my hand. I don't blame him, really. It was similar to when I was 15 and TJ (childhood cat) got her tail caught in the door and lashed out at the first thing she could--and that thing happened to be my face, mainly my eye.

Anyway, Alexsi limped a lot last night. Meowed a bit when he walked, but he got better. By this morning my hand hurt and was a bit swollen (yes, I cleaned it out after Alexsi bit me), but he was fine. I was still worried about infection, but going by mom's "infection checklist," it wasn't. It was still red and slightly swollen (but not hot--and therefore not infected). By this afternoon I realized two things--I had it bandaged too tightly and the redness was caused by the fact that when I removed the bandaids last night to look at it (something mom always told me not to do), I had ripped out a bunch of those fine hairs around my knuckles and the back of my hand. Ouch.

Sometimes it is nice to've grown up with a mom who was a nurse--I know how to take care of a minor but kind-of gross wound. I also have the "I'm not paying someone to tell me I was [insert injury/illness]" attitude my mom always had....