“A home without books is a body without soul.”
Marcus Tullius Cicero (106 BC-43 BCE)

I went a bit crazy at around 1 am (hurray for Prozac refills!). I cleaned and organized and prioritized my stash and library. I have an enormous library. I hear this rather frequently from friends and family, but never really believed it until now. All of the shelves in my room are stacked two-deep (or more) with books, and there are books in boxes on the floor, and stacked on each other, and stored in the cupboard under the stairs (Harry Potter-esque, I know), and stacked in boxes in the pantry, and on shelves in my parents’ room (I share, at least!), and there are even a few in both my father’s study and my brother’s room. Not to mention other rooms in the house. Okay, I should have just admitted that the entire house is acting as my library and saved the space.

I looove books. Love ’em. When I was in middle school and was first told that, until very recently, books have traditionally been a sign of a person’s wealth I just loved the concept. What could be a more glorious way of ostentation? And, as a Jew, I have been raised with a deep respect and reverence for the written word.

My parents were very encouraging of this, ah, collection at first. I’m sure they thought it was wonderful that I had a library card that had to be replaced twice it was used so often that the barcode wore off, or that I begged my father to take me to Borders two or three times a week. Before my Bat Mitzvah, my parents took away all my books because I was “spending too much time reading” instead of studying my Torah portion. Heh.

And, now, alas and woe!, they want me to pare my library down. Can you imagine anything more horrible? I admit that there are a couple dozen books I would willingly part from, but my parents (father, really) want me to cut down by half. Yeah. That’ll happen. NEVER. This is one of those “over my dead body” things, I think.

Anyway. The reason this is important is because I reorganized my big bookcase – it has all my Latin, Greek, and Classical resources (well, most of them – some are in storage…) and a bunch of my favourite novels by Pratchett and Pierce and Austen. And, as you can see, next to it is my slighty-more-organized stash:

Well, part of it anyway. Noticeably I didn’t take a picture of the area under my loft bed because the books and stash under it are in the midst of civil war and aren’t behaving prettily like the yarn and books above. I’ll tame them, though, just give me time. Yarn and fleece and books on knitting aren’t too feisty (I’m going to regret that comment, aren’t I?). I also found some more novels, historical references and my entire collection of Spin-Off, Interweave Knits, Handwoven (etc) under my bed, too. I put them all in a fisherman’s basket and sorta forgot about them. But, they’re nice and safe and sound and all.


Okay. I need to shower (covered in dust and bits of fluff) and climb into bed. Have Guild tomorrow. Err, today. Have to finish the socks. Have to find that bloody spindle. But, oh yeah, see the stash? (well, part of it – and how could you not?) See the overflowingness of it? This is why I need to stay on a Yarn Diet (not succeeding) and knit my fingers to the bone. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m so unemployable. I have no excuse not to knit constantly.

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