We live in an A-frame house, the result being that we have very few straight walls for bookshelves. This is, of course, problematic, as my wife and I both love books. My wife is studying library science, after all. And my parents met studying for a library science degree. If it weren’t for books, I wouldn’t be here. Recently my sister-in-law and her husband decided to move, and as one does, they took a good hard look at their collected books and asked “do we really want to move all that?” I don’t blame them. My brother-in-law in particular reads some pretty heavy stuff.
Have you recovered from the pun? Good. They had a bunch of books they didn’t want to move, even to take them to the local used book store to sell, and we had an addiction for acquiring leaves of paper covered in print and bound together. Logic did win out: we decided that we were more than willing to carry these heavy books to a reputable dealer in exchange for cash, and my in-laws were fine with us pocketing the proceeds.
Of course, we had to weed through them, first, and pick out the ones we wanted to keep. My wife has foresworn doing this. She doesn’t trust herself. But I plunged in, and separated out the books I’d keep form the ones we’d sell. In doing so, I made myself a promise: If I haven’t read a book within a year, I have to take it to Bookman’s.
This week we acquired even more books, and in the mix this time are several cookbooks. Books about food? Yes, please! With these I’ve decided to modify my promise a little bit: If I (we?) don’t make at least one recipe out of a cookbook in the next year, out it goes.
I’ll try to post the results of my cookery on this site, because if there’s one thing the internet loves, it’s pictures of cats. But if there are two things the internet loves, the second is surely pictures of food!
/Green Bandit out.