Today we attacked the living room and the boxes of my parents books. We have built in book shelves covering one whole wall of that room. Twenty shelves. These shelves are now designated into sections (yes, like a library). We have Religion, the Literature, a shelf of art books, and then the History books with the few extra literature books mixed in, and then the last section is philosophy. We have a lot of books. Oh, and the books in the living room? Yeah, that's only the hardbacks. We still have twenty more shelves to fill in the family room, and who knows if all of the extra books plus the kids books will fit on those. Good thing we have about ten unused bookcases sitting in the garage just waiting to be brought into the house to be filled with countless pages of words.
My parents have more books in their room. My brothers have some books of their own in their room. I have more books than I realized. For the past nine months I've been ordering books online and going to Barnes and Noble and Borders all the time to get books to read, when I actually have a ton. But of course, all my books were packed away. I forgot how many I had. Now I have more books than any other girl my age that I know (except for Natalie, she has more books. That's because she's Natalie).
I love books. I love them. I don't care that people look at me weird when I tell them that never in my life has my family had any form of television aside from VHS tapes and DVDs, because look at what I get. I get more books in my own house than I could ever dream of being able to read. While I was putting away books in the living room, I started looking at some of them, particularly ones in the religion and philosophy sections, and I have this hunger to read them all. So for the next four months while I'm home, I'm going to read as much as I can.
I should be reading instead of blogging.