A couple of weeks ago, I decided to (once again) tackle the bookshelves in the living room to improve the general orderliness and also to thin the herd.
I managed to weed out two more boxes to be shipped off to market, and another big carton on which they opted to pass. Can’t imagine why they wouldn’t have a need for ten year old “new” fiction and such, but whatever.
Even better, I discovered in the end that I had an entire shelf worth of books that I’d not yet read.
It’s an embarrassment of riches: a whole shelf of unread books! Doesn’t get much more frugal and fabulous than that. I guess I got overly excited when we started going to the library again, and abandoned my own collection altogether. And then there were some new editions come Christmas (thank you!!), and there you have it. It’s like an extra special blessing, considering library trips have slowed to a trickle, and I’m trying very hard to be cheap when it comes to book-shopping.
Now if I could only squeeze in a little more reading-time, but what am I saying? Is there such a thing as “enough” time when it comes to reading?!