bookavore hoarders

This week, I’ve been sorting and organizing the disheveled piles of books that have spilled from the packed bookcase to the floor all around it. Doug came home from work last night and went downstairs to change into sneakers and a sweater his mother knitted. No. That was Mr. Rogers. Doug changes into jeans and a t-shirt. He made it to the basement landing and screamed like a girl.

“WHERE ARE ALL THE BOOKS?”

We had the conversation that we are going to have over and over again in 2013 as I work my way through several decades of clutter. Doug calmed and went out to help a friend with a computer problem. Then, Professor Teen came home from piano lessons.

“WHERE ARE ALL THE BOOKS?”

I repeated my speech from earlier and Professor Teen twitched, but went back to taking out the trash. Then, he saw the recycling bin.

“WHY ARE YOU THROWING AWAY BOOKS?”

I explained that I was getting rid of old DHS training manuals and directories for agencies that no longer exist. We talked about obsolete information and current information existing online.

“They look like books. I bet someone still wants them.”

It’s going to be a long year for the hoarders in this house.

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