I have decided to wrap up the move ASAP. I felt a deep urge to go to the bookstore yesterday. And I almost went. Until I realized what I wanted were MY books. On my shelves. I have several tomes that I pour through again and again. So instead of going to the book store, I went to the storage unit and dragged out my tallest bookcase. I had already taken the smaller two cases home and am slowly filling them with mine and Will's books. I have far more books than he does. But combining them is the start of a new adventure. I can travel the familiar roads of my books, and I can venture off into his books.
The corner where I am putting all these shelves and stories is coming along so nicely. I think it will be a very Bohemian corner. Right now I have books, family photos, cow bells, my big jar of feathers, and my horse collection. We've placed the television on a rolling cabinet. I actually have to walk behind the TV to get to my books and I love it. My little nook is more secluded. I'm thinking when all the shelves are painted and filled I'll put up a large folding screen. In the opposite corner is the huge, old radio cabinet. We have records stacked everywhere. How could I not love it?
I'm trying to finish the move even though it means in a few months (I'm hope) I'll be moving again when we get a trailer. Despite saving ourselves a ton of work by deciding to tear down the house, we still have a mountain of work ahead because we will need to clear land for the trailer. And then we'll move. And then we still have to tear down the house.
The more sensible thing would be to keep the storage unit so I only have to move boxes once more. But then that would still be like camping (and I hate camping). I'd long for the comfort of my belongs and feel like I really didn't belong here because nothing in the house is mine. No, I need my books.