Project 52, week 8
What's black and white and read all over?
That would be me.
I come from a long and less-than-illustrious line of bibliophiles. Being homeschooled was only the excuse; the truth is, my mom loves books. Period. The more bizarre and obscure, the better. Four volume biography of John Adams? We had it. Parts of the eight-volume history of the British Isles by Churchill? Let me get that for you! How to make your own marionette theater, complete with scripts? I read and reread that one. (It was interesting, ok?) If any of us had a question, we were told "go look it up!" And in those long ago pre-internet days, we would trot off to the encyclopedia (purchased at a thrift store, I'm sure) and winnow out the knowledge we needed. Every thrift store bag day meant another pile of old and interesting-looking books would make their way home.
But mostly the books sat on the shelf, waiting for the day when one of us would suddenly decide to learn how to make children's toys out of wood, and sadly, that day never came.
So there was this one time my dad drew the line: WE HAD TO GET RID OF BOOKS.
So my mom spent several days out in the book shed (oh, yes, they had their own building now) sorting and tossing and sorting some more. And at the end of that time she emerged, heartbroken and yet triumphant: she had gotten rid of books! Eighteen banana boxes (yes, banana boxes--the kind used at the supermarket) of books were loaded up and donated to the church.
AND WE STILL HAD THAT MANY LEFT ON THE SHELVES.
So, um, yeah. We like books at my house. This is about half of my collection, and I'll be honest: I just got rid of a bunch. And none of these are Jared's. And no, I've not read all of them. About half, actually.
But they look interesting, and someday I will.