My Apologies

My intent with the Story Pieces series that I started was to give you something every Friday, but I don’t have anything new to give you today. For those of you looking forward to the next installment, I’m very sorry. You will get more Gwen and more fairies next Friday in the new year. And I’m planning on writing even more to make up for it.

Yesterday was Christmas and I had the joy of cooking a meal for my husband, our moms, and my grandma. It was our first Christmas as a married couple and I know that I loved all of it.

I hope that, for those of you who celebrate Christmas, that you had a wonderful time enjoying the people that you love. For those of you who don’t, I hope that you had a wonderful time celebrating your own holidays and traditions. To all of you, today and every day, celebrate whatever time you’re given with the people you love. We don’t know the length of time we’ve been given here.

When I give I give myself.

~Walt Whitman, from Song of Myself

Frank, Leonard Roy. Random House Webster’s Quotationary. New York: Random House, 1999. Print.

Hoarding

Now, I’m not saying that I need an intervention, but I do have a bit of a problem with the way I collect certain things. I didn’t fully understand this about myself until I moved into my own place, started trying to find space for past obsessions, and discovered new things to collect.

The things I discovered that I enjoy collecting are candles, blankets, and cooking utensils and supplies. The things that I’ve always collected are books, writing notebooks, pens, and technology. The books are at the hoarding level.

I had several bookshelves at the house where I lived with my family, but most of my books lived in boxes. I didn’t realize just how many boxes of books I had in the attic until Grandma informed me that I’d probably have to get a storage unit just to contain all of my books. There’s nothing wrong with storage units and I wouldn’t necessarily mind getting one, but I don’t want to pay for one right now if I don’t have to. So I decided that I needed more bookshelves, possibly a lot more. Thanks to my boyfriend’s family, I now have four rather big bookshelves that nobody else wanted.

Originally, I was going to simply throw all of the books on the shelves only in the order of which ones my hands pulled out of the box first, as I did with the bookshelf I was given by my family. Then, I decided to place certain types of books together along with trying to keep particular authors and series together. I have a bookshelf for cooking, one for really old books, and one for school books.

It’s really nice to be able to have them out on display and it’s fun going through them. And I’m not even done yet. While organizing them on shelves, I’m also trying to winnow out some books I’m willing to part with and let someone else enjoy. It’s hard to come to the realization that I can’t keep everything.

Now, why am I rambling about books? Because I love them. And it’s my dream to one day have one of my own novels, books of poetry, or collection of short stories on the shelf. I’ve also always wanted a storybook library and now it feels like I have part of that. Books make me happy, and I think writers need to read to be good writers so books should make you happy too.