Yes, 3,000 books. And there are more, still, here. Many were donated to book sales; many more were offered to colleagues in my own school and others nearby for their our homes and/or classrooms, others are boxed and in storage. We hope to put the house on the market in the next several months and get a new place that is easier to maintain, so the only books left in the house are those we are using to "stage" the house for showing. Wow, is that a different way of thinking about books, at least for the books-are-for-reading set, of which I am a proud member. Before now, every room except the bathrooms had book shelves and every room INCLUDING the baths had stacks and piles of books that did not fit into/onto shelves. We all love books at my house. Now we are down to the built-in shelves in the study and the family room, with a few dozen texts placed artistically here and there upon them, with decoratifs scattered among--my husband's pre- WWII tin toy collection, our mutual frog collection, a teapot here, and vase there, a trailing ivy, too. Too, too chic by far. And stacks remain in our bedroom, and a title or two in each bathroom. All of those must go, except, perhaps, for the singleton staged on the nightstand with a ribbon marking the place that may or may not be real on the day of the open house.
Books, books. All read, some more than once, some many more times than once, and all loved, though some more than others. Shhh! Like children, I try not to let them know they are anything but equal in this loving mother's eye.
1 comments:
He's lovely, truly that coyote there.
Yes, 3,000 books. And there are more, still, here. Many were donated to book sales; many more were offered to colleagues in my own school and others nearby for their our homes and/or classrooms, others are boxed and in storage. We hope to put the house on the market in the next several months and get a new place that is easier to maintain, so the only books left in the house are those we are using to "stage" the house for showing. Wow, is that a different way of thinking about books, at least for the books-are-for-reading set, of which I am a proud member. Before now, every room except the bathrooms had book shelves and every room INCLUDING the baths had stacks and piles of books that did not fit into/onto shelves. We all love books at my house. Now we are down to the built-in shelves in the study and the family room, with a few dozen texts placed artistically here and there upon them, with decoratifs scattered among--my husband's pre- WWII tin toy collection, our mutual frog collection, a teapot here, and vase there, a trailing ivy, too. Too, too chic by far. And stacks remain in our bedroom, and a title or two in each bathroom. All of those must go, except, perhaps, for the singleton staged on the nightstand with a ribbon marking the place that may or may not be real on the day of the open house.
Books, books. All read, some more than once, some many more times than once, and all loved, though some more than others. Shhh! Like children, I try not to let them know they are anything but equal in this loving mother's eye.
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