Sunday, December 18, 2005

The Bookworm

With the partial exception of my bedroom in my flat in London, which is so small it tends to become ever more cluttered and messy until I suddenly go into a flurry of tidying up and get it all Sir Garnet (for at least a couple of days...) I'm a reasonably domesticated type. I especially like to have everything just so over Christmas so I've been undertaking a fairly thorough non-Spring cleaning over the past couple of days. I'm simultaneously pleased and horrified to come to the recognition that my livrary has got so big that it actually does need a library (I should buy the Cluedo house) to house it. My bedroom currently has three full sized book cases in it and the only way I can store everything other than in piles on the floor, on top of my chest of drawers, heaped under my desk etc is to completely double stack the cases, with the books stored horizontally (which isn't good for them). A good third of my collection, including most of my War Studies relevant texts, is still in Westminster. Frankly, what the hell I'm going to do with them if I ever get put in a position where everything needs to be in one place I have no idea. Right now half of me is glowing with pride at the distinguished nature of my "library" and suppressing the urge to stand leaning nonchalantly against the living room fireplace, smoking a pipe and looking smug and the other half is suppressing the urge to start shrieking incoherently and set fire to the lot.

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