Dear Reader,
Word Raccoon and I have been decorating the newly painted bookshelf in our minds for days now. Today, we were ready to make it a reality.
But.
But then we realized we had three big boxes of books from it to go through to see what belonged on the shelves. That didn’t even mean searching the other bookshelves in the house.
WR started grabbing anything that appealed to her, from books she hasn’t read to books she thinks she ought to, to books she adores.
Even before she chose books, however, she chose shelf decor, which just felt wrong at first. I mean, bookshelves are for, you know, books.
However.
However, this bookshelf is definitely special, and we wondered what it might feel like to showcase books instead of warehousing them.
Onto the shelves, then, went books that particularly delight us mixed with hmmm…could be interesting:
Special editions of Woolf and Brontë.
Craft books.
Art books.
Classics and classics-adjacent.
All of the kitsch, too, apparently.
A sibling photo from when there were only four of us and I was only eleven years old. (I’m the mischievous-looking one with the butterfly necklace on the bottom right, in case you couldn’t tell.) That photo came from my parents’ house last year. I treasure it.
Two photos I took in Paris late one night through a shop window.
A Raggedy Ann doll that used to belong to my grandmother.
And on and on.
WR and I are thrilled with the results of our bookshelf transformation, although we honestly don’t know what we will do with the remaining books.
Between the movie (which was good) and all, it’s been a full day.
So here’s the bookshelf before we accidentally fall asleep.
Now we’re either going to try to write a poem we began on the way to The Devil Wears Prada 2 today, or we’re going to read more Rushdie, because though we are still only on the second story of the quintet, we are intrigued now.
Or, you know, we might doze off.
With warmth from the porch,
Drema
dremadrudge.com 