If I started reading a thriller book that took me into the wee hours of the morn twenty-eight years ago when I began my teaching career, I could sleep a bit and still feel great the next day. Somewhere along the line, late-night reading was no longer a choice. About five years ago, I began stockpiling books to savor during my retirement. And I now do just that--Mitchner, John Jakes, Hillerman, Evanovich, and Grisham share time and space with favorite classics.
A personal library came about for three reasons. There was plenty of space over our closet and duel purpose craft/guest room for a narrow cat walk, used books are dirt cheap in America and David had tolerated more books in the small living spaces we shared than he could take. Thus, I have a library.
We thought we could finish out the library in about a week; one month later we could see that old light at the end of the tunnel. The ceiling meets the wall at a steep angle and I'm short of stature. I washed quite a bit of dry wall compound out of my hair before the three required coats were applied--paint required a scarf.
One summer night David finished nailing up the last panel of sheet rock in the library and headed for the shower. I was determined to "tape and mud" the seams before quittin' time so up the ladder I went with equipment in hand only to be greeted by the longest desert centipede I ever wish to meet. They can be fast moving little devils which that one surely was. Can't leave a door open around here.
I'm especially fond of the fly wall in the library. It is paneled with mahogany salvaged from a Phoenix law office remodel. I had stored the wood for about thirteen years, just waiting for the perfect spot in our house. There was enough of the product to cap the fly wall and banister of the staircase leading up to the library and to construct an attic door. And like many components of Badboulder, it has sentimental value. Our oldest daughter found the wood and alerted me to it and a younger daughter gifted me with an additional supply at Christmas.
I consider the staircase leading to the library as colorful and playful since a dark library needs some quirky element; David considers it juvenile. The stairs were constructed to be quite sturdy but made with inexpensive wood and a steel load-bearing beam was exposed. I painted the stairs in black and Ralph Lauren "racer pink"stripes with a wide strip of leopard print in the middle. I acquired the leopard print decoupage paper in a German craft shop during a family visit. The riser that doubles as a support beam is covered in zebra and another ugly but necessary support riser is covered in giraffe. I thought the hot pink/leopard combination was unique until a recent visit to Hobby Lobby (David refers to it as the divorce incubation
store). Hobby Lobby has an entire section of hot pink, black and leopard. So much for originality. I like it and it can be painted over.
Our bookcase was purchased at Costco, so large that it had to be assembled in place and probably a Hogwarts wizard came in to assist. I'll never know as it was one of those tasks that I was too nervous to watch. Glass shelves were involved. The dayroom bed came from our son; it has been referred to as the German bed by all his sisters who have used it at one time or another. The bed is actually from Italy, purchased when he lived in Germany as a bachelor. We needed to shorten the legs to get a correct fit in the room. It makes for cozy reading. The white bedspread covering the bolster pillow was my Grandmother Henderson's pride and joy. It has a hole or two but otherwise has remained pristine white--just the way she wanted. (Grand kids were not invited to climb on that bed). The giraffe table was a gift from Maria. The desk was one of those oak reproductions that I refinished in mahogany. The fancy panels bordering the desk came from a carved wooden Indian screen. These screens were such popular black-market items when we lived in Korea that the Officer Wives' Club gift shop required the military sponsor to purchase them. I'm still amazed that David stood in line to buy it for me as shopping has never been his favorite activity. The books are all mine and are in no body's way.
It's a great use of potentially wasted space. I read, keep my own office and I'm hopeful that a grand kid or two will want to cuddle up and hear their Baba Nancy read a story.
FROM THE KNOTHOLE: Hey, it's me, up here in a knothole, reading a book. And if I didn't come out until I had read all the books around here, I would be roughly the age of Methuselah. I don't especially dislike books; I just dislike anything that pushes me out of house and home. We have had books in storage for years from our children. We recently added tubs and tubs more books from children to hold in the family archives. We have an old set of encyclopedias. We have a full set of Zane Grey books. We have old college books from our college days and some from our children's college days. Old recipe books. Old paper backs. Picked up at yard sales. From second hand bookstores. And millions of children's books from Badboulderlady's teaching days. We have shipped several million children's books to our grandchildren; and, we have held several million in reserve just in case the grandchildren come to visit. I am inundated in books. I can't see out of the windows. I live in fear of a book avalanche. I have turned on my emergency transponder. If you can find me, can somebody please help me?
a parting shot from bbman: everything in moderation; nothing in excess. ha,ha. that includes books.
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