When I was a kid and teen, I was sent to my room every single day for some failure or other. Books were my solace. I would read and reread the same childhood books over and over again banishing my days’ failure in their comfort. The Little Princess, Little Lord Fauntleroy, The Secret Garden were all Victorian era stories of lost and sad children that had happy endings.
When I reached adulthood and marriage, I was introduced to Science Fiction and Mysteries. I gobbled them up like popcorn and was very grateful for a county library nearby. After my divorce, many of my books burned in the fire that destroyed my Victorian. I moved to the beach with only one bookcase, my grandma’s old white one. I filled that over the top. At the big house, George built me many bookcases. Imagine floor to ceiling science fiction.
This week I started discarding books. Last week I did only one shelf: three bags of architecture books went to the discovery shop. Today I am upstairs in the mysteries, WWII, and White House books.
Don’t do one little thing at a time, says the Japanese tidying expert, “Do it all at one time.” There isn’t enough of me to do that….to get that deep into dust and memories all at once. I seem sentimentally attached to every book on every shelf. “Will I read it again,” is my mantra today. I’ll let you know my success.