Recycle The Rest Of My House - But Don't Touch My Books

Nesting on 04.21.11

Gayle Weiswasser Contributor bio | twitter

Photo Credit: rogue-designs

What is it about spring that makes people want to clean out, pare down and simplify? I know that every year when April rolls around, I take a look around my house and am disgusted by the sheer amount of stuff everywhere. All I want to do is play hooky, stay home, and go room by room, eliminating what we absolutely do not need and getting closer to a life of simplicity and minimalism. Maybe it's Earth Day, maybe it's the sun shining brighter into corners of the house that were previously obscured by winter's duller light, or maybe it's a biological impulse to shed a layer of skin as the weather gets warmer. Whatever it is, I just want to recycle everything I see.

Except my books.

I've talked about e-readers here before, but I don't think I have talked about one of the reasons I have shunned the devices: I simply like having books around. Especially books I've read. I keep all of my fiction in my bedroom, and one of my greatest pleasures is to look at the shelves and consider each title, spine by spine, recollecting the experience of reading that book and the characters therein. I do have a list of books I've read on my book blog (well, since I started blogging), but it's not the same. Knowing that the actual book is mere feet away and capable of being picked up and enjoyed again is an immensely satisfying experience. This is why I am always reluctant to lend books out - they're like friends to me. The thought of losing one is painful.

So while I recycle clothes with ease, and have no problem donating furniture, toys, and housewares, I am in permanent acquisition mode when it comes to books. That wall of shelves in my bedroom is getting more and more crowded - soon I will need an annex in another room - but while I find the rest of the house's clutter claustrophobia-inducing, this collection is pure pleasure.