You Can Never Have Too Many Bookshelves
Highwaters came over today and helped me douche my house. It’s part of our Housecleaning Exchange Program, where we come to one another’s house and enable the other to see the things that really can be thrown away, or donated, or placed somewhere better. She has a one bedroom apartment and I have a two bedroom saltbox, but she’s a good sport and devotes scads more time to my abode than I did to hers. (I’m thinking of paying her back by handcrafting a new windshield for her car. I’m sure I can find instructions on marthastewart.com, no?)
What we optimistically thought would take a few hours instead took all day, and we paid the price with blackened fingernails and dark gray dust-boogers, but the result (four bookshelves set up in the living room instead of my bedroom) is pretty awesome. I don’t know where all these books came from (well, actually, I do), but three boxes/bags of books to trade in at a local used bookstore later, I’m still finding fresh stacks of books with no place to call home. And I’m out of wall space for bookshelves.
It’s an enviable problem. I like walking into the living room and seeing my book wealth. It makes my home seem so much more inviting and warm when I see my paper and cardboard friends all assembled, waiting for the party to start.
Cheers to Highwaters, and our freshly shelved pals.
Are You There, Blog? It's Me, Margaret. I'm Totally Lying. My Name Is Jackie. 