Bookshelf

Offspring the Second is rearranging his room with an eye towards procuring a new drum set.  (His passion is drumming.)  To this end, he consolidated and organized some of his possessions and his books, allowing him to move one bookshelf out of his room.  It is now in Herself's room.

Her absolute delight at having a bookshelf is almost silly.  It's just a shelf.  Yet for ages, her books have sat haphazardly cramped like canned sardines either on the bottom shelf of a small table, within the base of her bedside table, or in various piles on the floor.  Now, they have proper places on shelves, and it is most pleasing indeed.

The Harry Potter books occupy their own section; the collection of nearly all of C.S. Lewis' publications shares a shelf with various writings of the Dalai Lama;  Italo Calvino and Kahlil Gibran contentedly share space with the Lord of The Rings trilogy, a few hiking books, log home plans, the magnificent Phantom Tollbooth and few other favorites; and a final shelf holds the miscellany -- tomes on various topics from language to science to religion, as well as some borrowed books that must return to their owners.  There's even a Klingon dictionary there somewhere.

Alas, the shelves are full already.  But they are tidy, and Herself is happy.