Wallowing in Books

In preparation for having our backroom floor measured for a carpet estimate tomorrow (the fellow who came out a week ago, for our first estimate, said that the existing carpet is probably forty years old), I unpacked some of the book boxes that have become fixtures in that room. My birthday bookcase filled up much too quickly, so that I still have three large boxes to haul upstairs and squirrel away in the attic, but it was great fun pulling out so many good old books that I haven't seen in what seems like ages. I found my chocolate chip cookie book, and just had to bake my favorite cookies after dinner. So many books are calling out to be re-read, but my birthday books are first in line. Of course, since I am currently working on The Brothers Karamozov (yes, still!), Discipleship, Rip Van Winkle (for T.'s book group), and See You in a Hundred Years (which I couldn't resist when I saw it at the library), I probably won't start anything new right away. But The Diary of a Provincial Lady (my very own copy of the book I accidentally dropped in a stream last summer) arrived in the mail today, a slightly delayed birthday present from my loving mom, and I'm just itching to sneak into it and re-read some of my favorite bits. Of all the dilemmas that a person could face, I think that trying to choose the next wonderful book to read has to be one of the nicest. Right up there with picking the perfect truffle out of a box of Godiva chocolates. Life is good.

Harry can not resist climbing into boxes. Even though he knows that K. will inevitably come along and close the lid and carry the box around. Which he hates. But apparently he just can't help himself. Today he picked a small box, just the right size for a little girl to pick up, and was sleeping on his back when K. found him. He knows the routine.

*You can't see it in this picture, but the Link costume that T. made for Piggy includes a Link hat. Naturally.