This is my bookshelf a little while back It was driving Hot Stuff crazy. To him it was disordered and unfathomable. To me it was aesthetically pleasing. Prettiness over practicality prevails. So what if it took an age to find something because I’ve forgot the spine colour.
The actual shelves are a cheap old piece of furniture, a flatpack from Argos. I nearly got rid of it a few years ago until I discovered that it was a perfect fit for the alcove in our main bedroom. The proximity of the side walls stop an annoying wobble which was the main reason why I was going to ditch it in the first place.
For many years I was a proper hoarder of books. They spilled from cupboards and bookcases all around the house: cookbooks, crafting reference material, travel guides, novels that I’d read and loved and those that I hadn’t got around to. People came to my house and evaluated me on the reading material that I had on show. Perhaps I had that in mind when I considered what I displayed. I think that I wanted them to judge me as interesting and clever. These days I’d be seen as almost illiterate. Aside current reading material lying around there are no books in the living areas of my home.
After I came to the realisation that I rarely read anything twice I started to cull my books. Very little of my original stash remain. So the shelves contain reference material for crafting, spiritual tomes, super favourite cookbooks, stuff I haven’t read yet and just one or two items that have sentimental connections. My Children’s Bible bought for me one Christmas when I was six or seven is one example. The illustration is grandiose but I was always disappointed that Joseph’s ‘dreamcoat’ wasn’t much more technicolor. There’s also a children’s book or two, my own favourites and one I read my son over and over again when he was wee. When I’ve read something these days I usually give it away to a charity shop or a friend with the request that they too pass it on after they’ve read it. Rather less books come into my home. Recipes, travel itineraries, clinical research and miscellaneous information are all gleaned for the Internet these days. Often my reading material no longer has a physical presence. It doesn’t make me any less of a bookworm.
I share a house with another adult these days. We’ve got to live and let live. So, in order that I don’t annoy the tits off Hot Stuff I’ve compromised. The books are now arranged in order of categories, cooking, craft, travel, hippie nonsense etc and his Dan Brown collection. I haven’t gone the whole dewey decimal hog. As you can see there are still mini rainbows!