My Weakness

In case you are wondering, I am now at home. My time here is spent with family and friends, cooking, and sorting through the boxes that I shoved in the basement when I moved home from college and promptly forgot. Now that I am moving once more, I want to make sure I know the difference between the things I need with me, the things I want with me, the things I want to keep but not move, and the things I can give or throw away.

In my boxes, I have discovered one of the things I gave up as a part of simple living : the books I own. I only let myself bring a few books to St. Louis with me (I think 3) and now I am unearthing the beginnings of a fantastic library. English majors end up with good books, such as Austen, James, Shakespeare, Bronte (both), Faulkner, Frost, Plath, and anthologies ad nauseum. Sociology majors acquire more non-fiction, but I found familiar names such as Peggy Levitt and Leo Chavez. And then there are the old friends that I have met on my own -- Robin McKinley, C.S. Lewis, Harper Lee, Madeline L'Engle, Sandra Cisneros, Catullus, Emily Dickinson -- plus a thesaurus, a name dictionary, the Catechism, a Spanish dictionary...

I have too many books to bring with me every time I move, but they make me really look forward to a day when I am settled somewhere. I want a Beauty and the Beast -esque library with books from floor to ceiling, and it looks like I have a pretty good start. However, now that I am not in a community dedicated to simply living and a place where I will have to fly or ship books home, I find self-control harder. I have a hunch I am going to bring way too many books with me to my next stage of life.