I cleaned my room today and made two large stacks of books that had been collecting under the bed. They are from a few years of books fairs, borrowings, and shopping sprees--when Borders went out of business. I am humbled by all the reading I have to do: great stories, poetry, memoirs, how-to books, diaries, cookbooks, and curiosities.
I loved stacking these up and picking out which to read first. I sorted them by genre: took the writing books to my desk, the kids books to their rooms, and everything else placed on shelves in my bedroom and study. I left a small stack of 5 books for my current reading.
I found a lot of treasures under the bed, things I had forgotten about. It sparked some imagination and intrigue. Its a rainy day and it felt good to visit old friends.