Boxes and Boxes of Books

My husband says I hoard books. He tried (emphasis on tried) to implement a “for everyone that comes in, one goes out” rule, but that was met with derision and contempt. I came home from work a couple of weeks ago to find that my husband had bought boxes at U-Haul. With the leftovers, he wanted me to box up some books. Most of the bookshelves in the house were double-stacked and I think it was driving him nuts. So I boxed up the ones I have read to make room for the ones I have not. There are three boxes in the living room and two in the bedroom.

I do not, as a general rule, like to get rid of books. Unless I own more than one copy of legitimately hated it. I do reread, but not as often as I’d like. My tbr pile has grown exponentially and I fear I won’t get to all of them. But I will try. My husband doesn’t understand this. He’s not a reader.

I live in a home with people who aren’t readers. I tried to make my son one, but it never took. My daughter does sometimes, but she has processing disorders and learning delays that make it difficult for her. So living in a house without fellow readers puts me at a disadvantage because they don’t understand my attachment to the books. I have always loved to read. Books were friends when I had none, escape when I needed one, and a source of knowledge and adventure. I can’t imagine not being a reader, though I’m sure my husband would love if I did.

My husband is a neat-nick. He doesn’t like clutter. For the most part, I don’t mind certain types of clutter – books being the best example. I don’t mind piles. I don’t mind double-stacked shelves. I don’t mind having to dust them – okay that’s a lie. I HATE dusting, but I do it. I like having books. I’m not the most creative shelver. I don’t have them sorted by color. They are basically divided between fiction and nonfiction and by subject, then alphabetical by author. I almost always know where a particular book is. Except for the boxes in the garage. I started to tape a list on each box when I had to open it to look for a book, but there are still some boxes without lists.

It actually pains me that I have boxes of books and no place to put them. One day, I will live in a house with enough shelves to hold all my books. I won’t have to go out to the garage and read fading lists on each box containing books. One day, it will happen. Until then, I will keep my books in boxes and tape an inventory list to each box.

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