I would have gone on all day but I had to stop because I have started sneezing fitfully and my eyes have turned red and itchy. Damn dust.
I've been fixing my library. Most of the books used to be in Elmo's room but I recently discovered the shelves were being eaten by termites. Also, it's become a poor excuse for an anything-goes storage -- no, piling -- area.
When he returns tomorrow I want him to have a semblance of order and purpose. By extension I would have some order and purpose because I have now been forced into the situation of evaluating which books will be kept and which will go.
My modest library is just that -- modest. I have accumulated a few since high school, mostly classics I had intended to read at some point. And then my friend the bibliophile Jenny migrated to the US and gave a large part of her collection to me.
It's a shame my kids are not voracious readers -- not as much as I'd like them to be, or I'd have wanted to be. I would have been in book heaven.
Why I am I doing this now? For the short term, for some livable space. For the long term, to sit and read and get lost, finally.