Jean-Luc and I love books, we are great readers.
Two years ago when Jean-Luc moved into this house we has some book shelves built - four in fact. At the time they seemed huge - four six foot bookshelves; surely they would be ample.
Alas as we unpacked, took Jean-Luc's old university books out of storage and started to double stack the books it became quickly evident that No, indeed they were not enough.
We need more shelf space.
A very 1st world problem to say the least.
I guess the problem would be a lot worse if we didn't have Kindles.
However we still buy books as there is nothing like curling up with a real book as the rain lashes down outside and the wind howls and we can snuggle under some blankets with a cup of tea or coffee and some thick, buttery toast.
And so the problem continues to grow.
So as we contemplate where to put another bookshelf (and that corner of the bedroom seems the best place) I have been, as you may have guessed from the pictures, perusing book shelves and other such lovelinesses.
And I'm thinking, perhaps we should start arranging our books according to colour, like some literary rainbow.
It looks lovely but it's not for us - it would mean splitting up books from the same author and sadly, we're far to bookish to do that; after all, how on earth would we find them if they weren't all huddled together in author herds.
So now, contemplating the likelihood of a new bookshelf, we have to decide which books to move upstairs.
As all good bookists/ librarians know, the placement of one's books is a concise science, especially when thinking about the private and public spaces of ones house.
Do we move the favourite, best loved books, those cheap paperbacks and secret sins we have gathered over the years or those deeply worthy but not often read tomes.
Oh decisions, decisions, the most delightful of decisions.
Bare with us in our time of trial.
