We have a library in our house. Seriously, a room devoted to books. Shelves on three walls.
Plus shelves in the living room. Plus shelves in our bedroom. And in the upstairs hallway. And our headboard. And my office. (Although that’s mostly tech books. Still count? Oh, and genealogies!) And some odd books scattered in the guest room.
Some day, in the ten years or so, we will downsize and move to retirement digs. And we will give up things that hang on our walls. And furniture from three generations past. And rugs and quilts and clothes that don’t even fit us now. And it will be fine.
And then we will give up our books, and we shall sit and weep together.
