Last night I found myself leafing through a Pottery Barn catalog.  I couldn’t sleep because my bed partner – who shall remain nameless – was keeping me awake.  He had just tinkled in the bed and was trying to flirt his way out of trouble.  He quit sleeping all night about 10 days ago when he got a cold.  Since Grandpa Daddy needs his beauty sleep, we have  been sleeping in the guest room.  Actually Paul starts out in his big boy crib, and me in mine, but has been waking around midnight for an hour or two, and due to my laziness, he has been sleeping with us, or just me lately.  He has this thing he does that is like he is trying to crawl or swim or something, and he ends up clawing my back.  All night.  Part of this may be because we need a new mattress, and he slides my way.  But I digress.

Back to the catalog.  I am not Pottery Barn “people”.  They would likely be horrified by my attempt at home decor.  I am not sure why they are sending me a catalog, except they may think I could use new furniture or drapes or something.  I probably could, but it ain’t gonna happen any time soon.  So I was awake at midnight paging through the catalog, looking at the books they used for decor in their little pretend rooms.  “My name is Wildflowersp and I am an addict.  I have a certifiable book problem.”  Some book displays were arranged by color, some had their spines to the wall, pages facing out.  Yep, that would be a handy way to store books.  In one scene, they had two stacks of books on the floor.  The stacks were about four feet tall, and in the dining room.  Dramatic?  Yes.  Weird?  Yes.  If I kept my books on the floor of our dining room they would stick to each other from peanut butter or cognac or something – wait, you are supposed to drink cognac in the drawing room I believe.  What is even weirder is the fact that I noticed the same books in several scenarios.  In one shot, the titles were backwards because they had flipped the negative before printing it.  I suppose those Williams Sonoma folks told the Pottery Barn people that I was a live one.  Kitchen stuff is important, but decor?  Neh, not so important.

A friend recently complimented me on how I had used books to decorate my home.    So I started putting a little thought into how I piled my books all over the place.  I have a horizontal pile in the living room of attractive children’s classics, like “A Child’s Garden of Verse” and Richard Scary’s “Cars and Trucks and Things That Go” ok, I am kidding on the second one (although it is a classic).  I put some of my books horizontally in my office bookshelves too (I can actually get more books in that way).  My library is loosely organized according to Mr. Dewey Decimal, so there are limits to what I can do.  But I purchased a pretty book at a garage sale, to put on top of a stack of books.  I have no idea what it is about, and have no intention of ever reading it.

Have you ever been to a house that is bookless?  With the exception of the laundry room and the mud room (neither rooms are designed for lingering) I believe you could find a book in every room of our house.  As my dad once said, “If you go into the bathroom and forget what you wanted to do, there are three different books to help you remember.”

Part of the reason I was checking out Pottery Barn’s book collection is that I am out of books.  Well, I have hundreds of books, but nothing I am interested in reading right now.  I owe the library $$ (maybe a buck) but it is so hard for me to get anything for myself checked out.  My kids are well behaved, but not so well behaved I could browse.  Maybe I should look at one of those paperback exchanges.  I could probably unload some books that way too.

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