Weeding the Bookcases

Moving and culling

I must weed, not the garden but the bookcases. They bulge and sway, topple and protest. Not another volume. And I hate a tight shelf. So a hard-hearted sheep and goats business is called for. Or of course some more bookcases. And it takes such an age, this sorting, what with reading and the absence of ruthlessness.

Ronald Blythe Next to Nature: A Lifetime in the English Countryside

We just moved and what a business it has been. Rather like giving birth, you forget how painful it is until the due date is upon you. But I see potential: the new house has a lovely foyer library (that I had painted in a lovely shade of green) and I am eager to fill it. At the same time, I feel a bit paralyzed. I postponed culling my books before the move, so here I am dealing with my deferment. There are three boxes in the foyer; at least ten more sitting in my office. The boxes are heavy, and it is a small office to navigate while sorting. But tomorrow is the day. No more delays. I will open each box, give a parting sigh (to some) and pay several books forward.