The beginning of each month offers a chance to look back into the reading piles and new acquisitions of the past month.

I can’t believe I only read five books this month. I have no excuses. Clearly I’ve been slacking off. But I really couldn’t even tell you with what. Those were:
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Happy April Fool’s Day! Despite today’s date, I swear that this huge, long list of books is no joke.

Attending library conventions has already proven dangerous to my bookshelves, but it’s even worse when I drive there and don’t have to figure out how to fit my new acquisitions into my suitcase. Fifteen new books came home with me. That number doesn’t include those that came home with Rudi, nor those that stayed with Sam and Alexis as gifts. (more…)

While I was away in Boston amassing the latest additions to my book collection (about which you’ll read more later this week), the Washington Post was apparently peeking into my windows and offered up an article about the difficulty bibliophiles have in storing all their tomes.

When we lived in Connecticut (in a three-bedroom apartment), I had plenty of space for all my beloved books — 8 bookshelves around the house. But now that I live in the tiny Burrow, I’m reduced to four bookshelves (most of them small). And piles. And piles. I’ve taken over little spaces around the house — precious shelf space in the kitchen, a half-shelf in the bedroom — but I admit that far too many reside in piles. And that trend is likely to continue unless I come up with a brainstorm.

And we won’t even talk about the boxes and boxes that live in my parents’ attic in Connecticut. (Thanks Mum and Dad!) One of these days I’m going to have to inventory the collection to reduce the frustration I feel when the bookclub pulls up a selection I own (and have read) and I can’t figure out which state the book lives in.

I admit to being a Peeping Tom when it comes to bookshelves. I live in a ritzy part of town, and in several homes I pass on my walk between the Metro and the Burrow, they have floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining their whole living room. I covetously drool from the sidewalk, knowing that I cannot afford a half million dollar townhouse just because of their bookshelves. But if they throw in a claw foot tub, a wood-burning fireplace, and a tiny space for a garden, I’ll find the money…

(Via Mental multivitamin.)

We have returned from our trip to the Northeast, laden with new books and good memories. Or maybe good books and new memories. Both.

I haven’t yet counted how many books came home with us. I know two went north, neither of which were touched. Two were started during the conference.

The March book report will be a lengthy one.

The cats were delighted to see us upon our return. Rudi’s student, John, is a great catsitter and always goes above and beyond the call of duty. Nonetheless, Della and Jeremiah have been clingy since our return — and they’ll be disappointed to learn that we’ll be heading home again at Easter. Posey is a less demonstrative cat and she takes our absences in stride. She is doglike in many ways, but getting emotional about our deserting her for lengths of time is not one of them.

I ought to clean tonight because two friends have suggested they might stop by during the next two weeks, but I find myself tired today. I want to adjourn to the couch with some cats, a hot cup of tea, and some podcasts or one of the aforementioned books, so I think I’ll sign off to do just that.

What a great idea! Kids in the St. Louis area are doing a Read, Right, Run Marathon, wherein over six months they will have read 26 books, completed 26 good deeds, and run 26 miles.

What a creative way to get kids doing mitzvahs, reading, and getting exercise!

(Via BookMoot)

Katherine Paterson, author of Bridge to Terabithia and Jacob Have I Loved, has won the Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award for Literature.

Kudos to Paterson who had the longest lines at the National Book Festival signing booths two years ago.

(Via BookMoot.)