THEY’RE JUST BOOKS

Aren’t they? But they’re OUR books.  And they live in OUR bookshelves. 

We’ve moved so many times that re-shelving them is but one more time-consuming task. We idly cram them into spaces with no plan.  As a result, biographers spend their days and nights with serial killers.  Cookbooks, which once were nicely grouped, are no longer. History books will neve ee the light of day again.

But this small group of books, pictured above, spoke to me.  And about me.  It’s comprised of two animal books, two self-help books, a collection of New York Times Sunday puzzles and a history of Georgia’s South Sea Islands. 

So, just exactly how did this small, very odd, random “selection” of books end up next to each other? On our shelves?  Ready for me to grab?  I’ve thought about this a lot and there’s more than one answer. But, here’s one answer.  The easiest answer.  And, the most obvious.

Not long ago, I was idly looking for some books. Didn’t matter which books. I was looking for books because I had two beautiful bookends sitting idly on table, looking for a reason to be. And there, before my very eyes were six random books who would be happy to step up to the plate. How cool is that?

But as I wondered about that odd, strange collection of books, another second answer came to mind.

That particular answer needs some thought and careful consideration before I speak aloud of it to anyone.  If it’s correct, it would solve the little mystery.  It could also set off alarms for anyone who reads it.  So, I’ll think on that  Soon. Just not today.