I love books. I love the feel of books. I love the smell of books. I love the noise made when I turn the page. I love seeing all of those words together in one place and knowing that they hold a story. I have to admit, though, that I don't always read all of the books that I buy. Sometimes I just do a dance around a book - knowing that it has knowledge that I need but don't want. We have a little passive-aggressive relationship going on sometimes. Even so, I still love owning the book. I love owning books the way some women love having jewelry.
Through some practical experience, I have learned that I don't really like sharing books. I'm not sure if I just attract the type of friends that do not return books or if it is an epidemic. Some very precious books have not come back to live in my personal library. I have chosen to keep the people relationships over the book relationships, but there were a few times when the scale almost tipped the other way.
After many years of living in the same house with my father, I have learned not to lay my books down anywhere other than my bedroom (and once or twice that has not even helped). I have learned in just the past few years that laying my books down within in reach of my husband is not a good idea either. Why is that? What happens to these books?
