Back from the Edge of the Abyss
Bookcases are happiness. This, I have decided to be my truth. I know it's been a while since I wrote anything of substance, so here's a little bit. I really want to get back in the habit, but now that I have all the time in the world, I've struggled with depression, and so day after day goes by with a blank Post Entry form and no words. But, like I said, bookcases are happiness!
On Friday, I got a bookcase. Since I was poisoned, fired and kicked out last month, I've been dealing with a lot of crap. God provides, and so I've always had sufficient for my needs, but though I've been gifted a bed, so I'm no longer sleeping on a sheet on the floor, a dresser, so I'm no longer living out of suitcases, and a friend needed a roommate, so I have a roof over my head, I've been feeling so lost and depressed and misplaced. Two things I've longed for more than anything, at least as far as physical possession longing goes, are a bookcase and an overstuffed chair.
Well, now I have a bookcase, thanks to the miracle that is Craigslist! It's a tall 5 shelf white laminated particle board piece of heaven, and once I washed it, and added soft green and white paisley contact paper to the middle of the shelves for a touch of color, it made tears of joy fill my eyes. My room feels so much more like home. It's crazy how much of a weight was lifted off of my shoulders to see my beloved books lined up, nice and orderly, on the shelves. The double rows in some places, other shelves making room for my knick knacks, the owl bookends, they all just make me feel so peaceful.
Right now I can't stop looking up from my typing to see my new tin Big Ben bank that has Peter Pan on one side, Wendy on the next, followed by John and Michael on the third, and finished off with Tinker Bell on the last side sitting happily in the middle of the fourth shelf, along side the rabbit puzzle box from Costa Rica that 2 gave me for a bridesmaid's gift last winter, and my piggy bank, the oil lamp that Amethyst gave me, the ladybug box and Fairy with a Unicorn from Bekah, my ceramic Claddagh heart box and my dollar store blue celestial themed candle powered wax melt/oil burner. All little bits of me and people that I love and who love me.
There are so many more things on those shelves, but I guess what I've really only just now discovered is that it's not so much the things I needed to display so badly. It's the love. The books themselves are all ones that I love. And they are mostly ones I share a love for with some of my friends, or was given with love by said friends, or have given copies of in love to said friends. There are childhood favorites such as Maynard the Maine Moose, Raggedy Ann and Andy and Heidi on the bottom shelf. My Bible and devotionals and cookbooks and sociological research books are on the top of the bookcase with my poetry and Irish history books. All things I love and adore. In between are old favorites such as Patricia C. Wrede, Robin McKinley, T.A. Barron, Judy Baer, Tracy Chevalier, and Janette Oke, and new favorites, like Garth Nix, L. J. Smith, Jane Yolen, and Jacqueline Carey. They and more are crowed in a cramming room only bookcase with an order that only makes sense in my head, and are hemmed in by candles, candle holders, banks, tin work, ceramics, glass, metal, fairies, pigs, elephants, manatees, unicorns, owls, cats, Ireland, and each and every bit of space in and on the bookcase is crowded with bits of me that I love and bits of those who have physically shown their love to me.
Even the coming about of the bookcase is from love. My mom's love for me and desire to do something nice for me. It wasn't how she planned (the money was intended for an overstuffed chair that I found on CL and fell in LOVE with), but it was definitely what I needed. Not to mention, the chair was $40, and the bookcase was $10 and and extra $5 to have it delivered to my house.
Now, I know that there are all kinds of love languages, but who's ever heard of the love language of Bookcases?
On Friday, I got a bookcase. Since I was poisoned, fired and kicked out last month, I've been dealing with a lot of crap. God provides, and so I've always had sufficient for my needs, but though I've been gifted a bed, so I'm no longer sleeping on a sheet on the floor, a dresser, so I'm no longer living out of suitcases, and a friend needed a roommate, so I have a roof over my head, I've been feeling so lost and depressed and misplaced. Two things I've longed for more than anything, at least as far as physical possession longing goes, are a bookcase and an overstuffed chair.
Well, now I have a bookcase, thanks to the miracle that is Craigslist! It's a tall 5 shelf white laminated particle board piece of heaven, and once I washed it, and added soft green and white paisley contact paper to the middle of the shelves for a touch of color, it made tears of joy fill my eyes. My room feels so much more like home. It's crazy how much of a weight was lifted off of my shoulders to see my beloved books lined up, nice and orderly, on the shelves. The double rows in some places, other shelves making room for my knick knacks, the owl bookends, they all just make me feel so peaceful.
Right now I can't stop looking up from my typing to see my new tin Big Ben bank that has Peter Pan on one side, Wendy on the next, followed by John and Michael on the third, and finished off with Tinker Bell on the last side sitting happily in the middle of the fourth shelf, along side the rabbit puzzle box from Costa Rica that 2 gave me for a bridesmaid's gift last winter, and my piggy bank, the oil lamp that Amethyst gave me, the ladybug box and Fairy with a Unicorn from Bekah, my ceramic Claddagh heart box and my dollar store blue celestial themed candle powered wax melt/oil burner. All little bits of me and people that I love and who love me.
There are so many more things on those shelves, but I guess what I've really only just now discovered is that it's not so much the things I needed to display so badly. It's the love. The books themselves are all ones that I love. And they are mostly ones I share a love for with some of my friends, or was given with love by said friends, or have given copies of in love to said friends. There are childhood favorites such as Maynard the Maine Moose, Raggedy Ann and Andy and Heidi on the bottom shelf. My Bible and devotionals and cookbooks and sociological research books are on the top of the bookcase with my poetry and Irish history books. All things I love and adore. In between are old favorites such as Patricia C. Wrede, Robin McKinley, T.A. Barron, Judy Baer, Tracy Chevalier, and Janette Oke, and new favorites, like Garth Nix, L. J. Smith, Jane Yolen, and Jacqueline Carey. They and more are crowed in a cramming room only bookcase with an order that only makes sense in my head, and are hemmed in by candles, candle holders, banks, tin work, ceramics, glass, metal, fairies, pigs, elephants, manatees, unicorns, owls, cats, Ireland, and each and every bit of space in and on the bookcase is crowded with bits of me that I love and bits of those who have physically shown their love to me.
Even the coming about of the bookcase is from love. My mom's love for me and desire to do something nice for me. It wasn't how she planned (the money was intended for an overstuffed chair that I found on CL and fell in LOVE with), but it was definitely what I needed. Not to mention, the chair was $40, and the bookcase was $10 and and extra $5 to have it delivered to my house.
Now, I know that there are all kinds of love languages, but who's ever heard of the love language of Bookcases?