Each month the arrival of the credit card statement tells me that I’m spending too much money on books. It could be worse, I guess. Like other women, I could have a serious passion for shoes. Or bags and purses. Or jewellery. Books are relatively cheap by comparison (welllllll, if you love buying rare 19th-century editions of the Brothers Grimm’s fairy tales, you might find that books can be horrendously expensive, too!).
So the piles on the top of my piano continue to grow and make me smile with satisfaction whenever I enter my little library-cum-music-room. (The Kitteh is less satisfied, I’m afraid, since the piles tend to be in her way when she climbs about on the piano and the lower bookshelves.) The sight of books has always filled me with warm, fuzzy feelings and thoughts of happily snuggled up on the couch with a cup of tea and a nice book (and a Kitteh).
Of course, at the moment I don’t really have time to actually read all these new books thanks to the Dratted Exam that will hit me over the head in three or four weeks’ time (*gasp* so soon??? Waaaargh!). So for now I regard those lovely piles as my winter hoard to be enjoyed over Christmas and in the new year. 🙂
Which reminds me of this lovely story:
Not that I would ever need an excuse to drool over the lovely Mr. Armitage. 🙂