Two years ago, I hung the hardware and had boards cut for a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf in the basement, something similar to what my grandma had in her loft. A place to hold board games, toys, and more importantly, a collection of books: travel, classics, sci-fi, young adult, etc...
When I was a kid, I would spend hours perusing my grandma's bookshelf. She was a teacher in Montana who taught multiple grades in a one-room school house. She had all kinds of books...old miniature ones bound in leather with wispy thin paper. Books about music, history, teaching. In front of her bookshelf, tucked away in the loft, always seemed like a magical place. No matter how often I was there, scanning book spines, reading and studying the pictures, playing with the old toys--relics from my dad's, my aunt, and my uncles' past--I always managed to find something new. I would ask myself, How long has this been here? Why didn't I notice it before?
For no particular reason, other than the summer weather, I finally got around to the task of making the pine shelves shiny and new with sand paper, stain, gloss, and a bit of elbow grease. I put my books in a semblance of genre order as best I could and made room for all those Legos...
Sand Job
Stained, Glossed, Stocked and Loaded
Middle Grade Shelf
When all was said and done, I stood back to admire my handiwork and was transported to a magical place once again. Those shelves not only hold my books and toys, but part of my grandma's, too, along with her memories. Her stuff is old and funny...and just weird. I think my aunt's doll says it all...
"I'm happy!"
"I mean, I'm sad."
"Wait, I'm confused."
The third face is peacefully asleep, thank goodness.
Little and Leather-Bound
Grandma's tiny address book, her mom's bible (1892), and a dictionary (1914)
"Work, Dick. Work, work."
The good ol' days when learning to read was funny, but not fun.
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"You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." ~ C.S. Lewis
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