Last weekend, in the Sunday Boston Globe magazine, there was a very cool living room designed by Erin Gates. On either side of her perfectly placed matching chairs and accent pillows, were two, tall, stack bookcases: starting on the floor, one book on top of another, on top of another, on top of another, nearly all the way up to the ceiling. They balanced her room beautifully; they were functional and fabulous.
Bruce and I don’t just like to read, we are reading addicts. Not one room in our house is print media free, and the volume of our collections has a tendancy to overwhelm our space instead of adding vertical interest.
This weekend I was the first customer at an out-of-the-way and early yard sale. I love it when this happens: urgency and competitiveness replaced with leisurely perusal. The first box i noticed had hard covered children’s books, all in perfect shape, and all priced at twenty-five cents each. With no self-help friends around, I started stacking my selections, higher and higher, until I couldn’t hold any more. Because Bruce and I don’t have children, I thought twenty was a reasonable and even place to stop.
The buzz started as I payed and walked away. My voice sounded shrill as I thanked the seller, my heart rate elevated, my breath wheezy, my lower lip trembled as my upper lip sweat. Twenty books with intact dust jackets, dedication-free, and in pristine shape - OMG, where else can an admitted junkie get a fix like this?
I brought my new books in, noticing that one had a price tag of $16.95. To bump up my buzz, I added the prices of my purchases, using only the nine books with visible price tags: total sale $135.69!
Sitting on the couch, with my new books scattered around for my reading and viewing pleasure, I peaked again. February 28th was the (or I should say, my) official start of another yard sale season, and I can not wait to see what the recycling world has in store for me this year.
