Today was a good day.  I spent the entire day at home and got more work done in my room.  It's hard to describe the size of that job to anyone who has never seen the room: moving one thing involves having to move something else first, which involves moving something else prior to that, which involves finding space outside the room for something else entirely, since there is no empty space in the room to use while trying to move things around.

Half the problem in there is my books.  Over the years, I have pared down my collection to what I consider the bare bones, but there are still several thousand the loss of which would hurt my soul; all of those books have to live in my bedroom because KidThree's wheelchair needs all available floor space in the living room.  I was able to clear space out there for the children's books, but everything else is in my room. 

The other problem is my yarn.  Some years back, my favorite yarn was discontinued by the manufacturer.  One day, as I was bemoaning its demise, someone at work told me to try eBay.  My reaction was, "yarn?  On eBay?"  She insisted that anything and everything was available on eBay, so I worked to figure out how to use it and son of a gun, found my yarn.  Occasionally.  And I bought it.  Just as occasionally as it appeared.  I had figured out how much I could realistically expect to use up, then when talking to my crocheting daughter, was told, "but Mama, I'd be glad to inherit whatever you don't use!"  Yippee!  Permission to let my obsessive self run wild and free in my quest for yarn.  I now have enough yarn to last me through retirement, even with letting KidOne help herself periodically.  As I expected back when starting on my quest, the supply dwindled over time, presumably as people cleared out their stashes around the country.  Now the yarn rarely appears for auction, and I have enough of it that I only bid if the color is a favorite.  That yarn collection, all carefully bagged by color, is also stored in my room.  I'm not buying any more (unless some black shows up!), but do have to provide cabinet space for what I have.  

Today I finally figured out how to arrange the last couple of bookcases--that was a relief.  I still need to go to IKEA to get some shallow shelving units for most of my paperbacks, then I'll have enough storage space for all the books.

Four boxes of books went to Friends of the Library today, and three bags of odd and ends went to the SPCA thrift shop.  That always feels good, to take things OUT of the apartment instead of bringing things IN.

 The other good thing that happened today was that John Sandford's latest was finally available at the library.  I went to pick it up and got the whole thing read between moving things around in my room.  It was excellent, as always.  Some authors seem to coast after they get established with a loyal following, but Sandford hasn't done that.  His characters remain true to themselves, aging and changing appropriately through time, and his plots are nicely complex.  And I like the characters, which matters.  If I can't like at least one of the main characters in a novel, I don't enjoy it much.  For example, I still read Jonathan Kellerman's books, but more out of habit than anything, and I don't get them in paperback to have and re-read.  I just don't like his characters.  They don't grow, they don't change, and they are too stereotypical.  Faye Kellerman does a much better job in that respect: her characters are like Sandford's, they grow and mature appropriately.

The other books I'd reserved that came available were "The First Word: the Search for the Origins of Language," by Christine Kenneally, and "The Accidental Mind: How Brain Evolution Has Given Us Love, Memory, Dreams, and God," by David Linden.  I love everything to do with language, from how alphabets developed to how languages change through time, and how our minds acquire, store, and use language.  I'm just as interested in how our minds work, why we have minds instead of just a collection of instincts and reflexes, and how everything going on in our brains contributes to making us human.  I'll enjoy the heck out of both those books, I'm sure, maybe even to the point of buying copies for myself.  These days, I don't buy a book until I've read it, as I can't spare money on anything that is not a sure thing.  I have to know it is a book I'll re-read and enjoy just as much on subsequent readings.

 And now off to pay attention to the lasagna sauce bubbling away on the stove.  Lasagna for dinner tomorrow night.  My Italian friend from New Jersey says it isn't really lasagna, as I don't use ricotta, so I call my version Irish Lasagna.  It's seriously good.

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