It should come as no surprise to any of you that I occasionally have an, um, storage problem with my library. (With 2,681 books and counting, it’s bound to be an issue from time to time.) I’ve got two small cases in my bedroom, two more in my bedroom closet. I’ve taken over the family linen closet. I took over the closet in the office (which used to be the guest room)–filled it with big shelves, each full of books. I’ve got a short bookcase in the office, and two tall ones. And, oh yes, four cardboard boxes (the half-ream size) in the closet, and five under-the-bed boxes under the table in the office. . . . I think that’s everything. That is, unless you count the milkcrate full of children’s picture books I kept around for my niece and nephew when they were little. Or the few writing aids on my desk in my bedroom. But really . . . for 2600+ books, that’s really not bad. (Really, it’s not!)

But . . . still, I’m gaining on the 2700-mark and things have been . . . sagging. Over-flowing the shelves. Piles on the floor. Piles on the chair. Piles on top of the bookcases. And, you have to realize, I’m a neat person. Almost obsessively organized. This has been frustrating me for months. The only saving grace has been that the piles have been in the office, at the other end of the house, so I at least didn’t have to look at them every day.

This weekend, though, things got better. We got two, brand-new, tall (six-shelf!) bookcases for the office. I’m almost giddy. They were dropped off by friends of my parents on Saturday. (They needed bookcases themselves and have a mini-van and were making a trip to Ikea, and were nice enough to pick up ours at the same time. Wasn’t that sweet of them?) Then, Sunday, I put together the bookcases. (Yes, all by myself. I’m not the handiest person, but I’m good at assembing pre-manufactured furniture–especially bookcases. I’ve had lots of practice.)

And then (this was the fun part) I moved the existing bookcases to make room for them. I moved a small bookcases of my mother’s out of the way . . . Hey, this was about my library! . . . and then slid the two, large, full bookcases down the wall to fill in the space it took up. I moved all the book-boxes out from under the table and then moved it flush with the cases, and then moved the new cases into the corner. Whoops. Need a couple more inches. Went back to the door and moved everything down two more inches. Ah . . . they just fit! Except . . . well . . . the door doesn’t quite open all the way anymore, and the electric outlet in the corner can’t be reached. Hmmm . . . Well, what if we turn the table so the short end is against the wall? Pulled the book boxes out again (why I put them back before we were sure, I don’t know). Pulled the table away from the wall and pivoted it . . . moved all four bookcases toward the center. Phew! That’s going to have to work, because I’m not moving those heavy, heavy cases again! (You should all be proud of me for being able to move them at all, really. And you’ll be reassured to know that, while a little stiff today, no serious aches, pains, or muscle spasms . . . knock on wood!)

After all of that, though, I was much too tired to start moving the books around, too. If you haven’t had the experience of moving large quantities of books, you may not realize how exhausting that can be. Try this: Next time you’re near an office-supply store, try lifting a box full of paper. Pretty heavy, huh? Now try moving it up and down, holding it only on the sides as you try to slide it onto a shelf. Trying to move books by the anything other than the covers can cause knit-stopping paper cuts! And then repeat about 50 times, all while reciting the Gettysburg Address in your head to mimic the effort required to do all this physical lifting while mentally alphabetizing, sorting, grading the books on the shelf. Any way, you’ll see why I was too tired to actually do the books yesterday, too.

And then, of course, after moving the books, I’ll have to bring in the computer and reassign every single one in the database to its new physical location . . . that’ll be fun, too! (Although, at least it won’t require lots of lifting.) And since I have the catalog sorted by topic, as long as, say, all the history books are on one shelf, it won’t be that hard to make the changes . . . still. Kind of tedious. Right now, of course, the room is still a mess. (You can’t see the pile of stuff on the floor behind the table.) But, I don’t care. This was the one, big step towards being organized again and I’m so excited!

Do you know, it just occurred to me the other day–school has started, and that means it’s the “anniversary” of meeting my dearest and oldest friend, Dawn. I don’t know the exact date, but it was the first day of school for third grade for me, second grade for her–so I was 8, she was 7. That’s thirty years ago, people. I really can’t believe it’s that long. We didn’t get to be best friends until junior high school–about five years later. (1981, the summer after John Lennon was killed, when our Beatles obsession sprang out of thin air and took over our music preferences through high school.) We haven’t lived in the same state since college, except for the occasional visit home to her parents, who still live around the corner from me, but she’s still my oldest friend. This is the friend I drove back to the airport last month. I assume she made it home safely because I didn’t hear of any crashes, but I haven’t heard from her since she left. Sadly, that’s not unusual–once she’s in California, she may as well be on another planet for the number of times she calls or writes–but the instant we’re in each others’ company again, it doesn’t matter. We could have been apart for a week, instead of a year, for all the difference it makes. Instant, best-friend contact. Our 30th anniversary (sniffle).

And then, my other best friend . . . a johnny-come-lately compared to Dawn . . . Cindy and I have only been friends for about 15 years this autumn. Practically a flash in the pan. We actually knew each other in high school–sort of. Her “group” and my “group” overlapped just enough that we knew of each other, though we never really sat down and had a conversation. Then one day, a year or two after college (she graduated with Dawn, not me), we were suddenly working in the same place. For about a week, we’d sort of look at each other in the hallway, “Do I know you?” until we finally actually said something and realized that we did. And we’ve been friends ever since. (And, she of course, knows Dawn as well–as you can see from this 2000 photo. It’s a silly picture, but fun! And you can see why I always feel so short….) Cindy actually still lives in the same state as I do, and is Mom to Chappy’s best friend, Horatio (and big-sister Princess, the greyhound). She’s been in Sweden for the last week on vacation, having just closed her store in Boonton last month, and I can’t wait to hear how her sock-knitting went when she was 3000 miles away from her teacher (me). I’m trying to convince her to come along to Rhinebeck next month, too . . . if you’re going, drop her a comment encouraging her to come along, would you?

Now, I don’t have anything of a fibery nature to show you, although I have been knitting, I promise you. I even brought knitting to the dentist’s office the other day, and they were very impressed when I told them I’d spun the yarn myself. I might even bring my spindle next time, to show off . . . I mean, I have to have something to look forward to with all these dentist visits, don’t I? I read in somebody’s blog, months ago (too long to remember whose) a comment about you know you’re starting to get older when a “bad checkup” doesn’t just mean cavities anymore, but root canals and crowns and temporary caps and all that much more fun, much more painful, much more expensive stuff. Well, guess what? Apparently, I’m getting older . . . (Really, you hear it all the time, but please, please take care of your teeth and gums while you can!)

I’m still waiting for my Three Cornered and Long Shawls from Schoolhouse Press. I pre-ordered it months ago. (April? May?), knowing it was back-ordered until late summer, but it still hasn’t come. Other people have gotten theirs, and my order was processed on 8/31, but . . . still no book. I wrote last week to ask if there was a tracking number, but was told it was shipped book rate, and shouldn’t start worrying for another 5-7 days . . . I know book rate is slow, but three weeks?? From Wisconsin to New Jersey? It’s not that far! And meantime, I’m hearing about the beautiful shawls, and seeing other peoples’ progress and . . . sigh. Really, how can I complain about a book?

Incidentally, Lauren Graham from Gilmore Girls is going to be on Ellen tomorrow, Tuesday. I’ve seen her other visits and, well, I don’t know if she’s always so . . . flighty . . . but she is darn entertaining on this show (and on G.G., too). Luckily for me, even though it’s a morning show, a local cable station airs Ellen at 4:00 in the afternoon, so I can usually catch most of the interviews . . . I’m looking forward to this one. If she does as well as the other times, she’ll be hilarious to watch. Both she’s, that is–I think Ellen does a fun interview.

And, also incidentally, I’m approaching a big, blogging milestone–1000 comments. I wouldn’t tell you how close, but it’s coming up . . . who will be the 1000th person to leave me a comment??

Tags: Family, Friends, General, Reading // 3 Comments »