“With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon who could not be happy?” -Oscar Wilde
Until we acquire a library with built-in-shelves and a rolling ladder attached, most of our books live in vertical stacks lining the floor of a wall in our living room. This weekend we dove into a total organization of all things that fall under the umbrella of literature and came out with glowing results.
From Will’s perspective: There is a very logical rhyme and reason to the set-up, making it much easier for us to grab a book we want to read or reference.
From mine: They look pretty and that makes me happy.
After about 10 minutes of this half-day-long affair, I found the journal that I kept when Will and I started dating. So obviously I spent the rest of the time reading starry-eyed entries and swooning poems aloud as Will categorized and organized the actual books. Upon further inspection I unearthed a dream journal from the ’90’s containing an alarming amount of written proof that most of my dreams in middle school and high school were nightmares involving sharks. And losing teeth. But mostly SHARKS.