Awake again at three in the wee hours of the morning. Despite being drugged with Trazadone, my eyes flutter open and my mind is alert and thinking of the move. Last night I planned which pictures and photos I would put on the walls of my new bedroom. I love putting things up on walls. Unadorned walls cry out to me to cover them wherever I find them. The rest of the room will be decorated with my books. Most of them have been in boxes for nearly three years and they are eager to be touched and put upon a shelf. These are the lucky books that didn’t get left behind as I needed to downsize. Everything from Beatrix Potter to Saint-Exupery’s Little Prince will be freed from the dented boxes. I mostly collect illustrated books. A book without at least one illustration is like a blank wall to me. It leaves me wanting. So, of course, I have lots of children’s books. Many of these are favorites that I read with my son when he was young. A few are favorites of mine from my childhood. Margaret Tempest’s Little Grey Rabbit Books were a source of comfort and joy for me growing up. The Harry Potter series will get its own shelf. My son and I read each and every one out loud to each other as they were published. I have read The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up and have used it’s advice but still find myself with at least one thousand books. Many books go out of print and cannot be found years later. At least I no longer act and consider myself the keeper of all unwanted books. I was the cat lady of books; wanting to give them all a home. I had thousands upon thousands at one time. I sold some on Alibris, and at 2nd and Charles and the rest were left in two large closets as I ran out of time and my house went into foreclosure. I am a recovering book addict and now consider a book carefully before adding to my collection.
The sun has come up. Its five in the morning. Tomorrow I get the keys to the house. First thing I am bringing over is a small bookcase and a box of books.