I have no place for my books.
This has been on my mind ever since we moved into this big old house – I mean HELLO! How could you conceivably have a house of this size and not have a special place for your books? When we moved in here, I was imagining a few very tall library style bookcases.
Perhaps a corner unit like this… only with a cozier chair.
Naturally, the only bookcase we actually have is much shorter and uglier than what I had in mind, and we’re too busy installing replacement windows and prepaying oil for next year to be investing in something like bookcases. But what am I going to do with all these boxes of books? What about the stacks that are building up all over the place?
Well, for starters, I’m staining the ugly bookcase so maybe it won’t be so… well… ugly anymore. Hubby and I have had this one bookcase since 1999 BC (that’s before children). We bought it new & unfinished, back when we were moving like gypsies, when I thought country chic decorating was charming, and everything we owned was pine with a pecan finish. (Don’t judge me.) When we bought it, we planned to finish it to match, but we never did, and over the past nine years, it has collected quite the original patina. Naturally it would probably make more sense to either burn the thing in the firepit out back or unload it in a yard sale and just buy a new one that matches our new furniture, but the truth is, we (I) just can’t let it go. This bookcase has history. If I throw it away, or sell it for cheap, what price am I putting on the memories it brings back. I can picture it now, crammed in some corner of every single apartment we ever rented – it has housed our books, our tchotchkes, our children’s first stabs at art. (As I was preparing it for the stain, I discovered a rather nice drawing of a stick figure person, and my eldest’s autograph.) It also had wax still stuck on it from 2003 when hubby and I let the candles burn all night and they melted all down the front of it.
Anyway, I’m spending my memorial day tomorrow putting the last coat of stain on. It’s a nice antique maple, and it’s turning out to look not like pine at all. I’m not sure where we’ll put the old thing. Probably up in the office, where we really need some shelving. Where ironically, the walls and ceiling are entirely… knotty pine… Sheesh.
I think the bookcases speak of the relationship one has with their books. Good luck finding your special place for your books.
Thank you, it’s looking very piney still. I think I may have to put one more coat on and then surrender to the color that it wants to be.