It is easier to buy books than to read them, and easier to read them than to absorb them. –William Osler
Well, I done done it again: done went traipsin’ off to another bargain book sale at the local library, and done ended up taking home more cheapo tomes than Trump takes ego trips. How many books do I own? I stopped counting around 720 (which, by the way, was a very good year, so I hear). Let’s just say that if all the books I’ve accumulated were people, they’d be so crammed together that they’d be begging for as much space, in relative terms, as tin-packed sardines have (not that I’d want space for relatives — my house ain’t no hostel for visiting bedlamites). My books, on the other hand, deserve more space because they’re doomed to wait longer than sardines for me to ‘digest’ them all — like until there’s peace on earth or Goodwill in store for my boatload of books after I sale off into the sunset.
Anyway, the end result of all this trumpery is to take another ‘skip-a-post to read-the-most’ books I can — like the break I decided to take two months ago after I brought home my last used book bonanza. I’ll be back Feb. 15, more bleary-eyed but less behind (or, if you like, less in arrears) in books to read….Lord willin’ and the library don’t have another sale.