A Nasty Habit

They say that the first step in getting over an addiction is recognizing that you have a problem. At least that's what it says in the Alcoholics Anonymous book I picked up a few weeks ago. It came in an enormous box of books given to us from an acquaintance who had the books, wanted to get rid of them, but felt guilty about just giving them away to someone who wouldn't appreciate them.

That's where I came in. I appreciate books.

A bit too much. I have to measure the number of books on my to-read pile not by the number of books, nor by the number of pages, but by the yard. I appear to have about 2 1/2 yards of books waiting. And that's just in the official to-read pile. I have other books on the shelves that I have not read yet, just stuck up on the shelves. The only reason the to-read pile hasn't joined them is that there is no more room on the shelves. We don't have a lot of shelves -- only 60 linear feet. I could easily do with a hundred.

Because I buy books all the time. Friday, when the kids were at school and Michelle was with her folks shopping, I went to the DI and bought a stack. Then yesterday, on the way home from our walk, I mentioned that I'd left a book there that I thought I had but didn't, so could we stop for just a minute. Bought another stack. Read one last night and maybe will start on one today, if I can get my kids to stop reading my blog posts as I write them.

Aside: They're like moths to a flame. As soon as either Michelle or I even look like we're going into the study to a computer, they're all there following us like goslings.

Another aside: I'm trying to upload a photo of our bookshelves to this blog, but for some reason I'm having trouble. Durned computers and such.

Update on another aside: Well, the photo uploaded. Who knows why?

Yet another aside: I hope, in the first aside, that you forgive me for mixing my metaphors.