And yet I find myself still buying books, checking out books from the library, browsing at book stores. The photo at right is one one of the places that houses books in my home. I suppose you could say that books are a main decorating feature here. Most are collections of stories, poetry or ballads, books about storytelling, ballads, writing, and gardening. Larry has several mixed into the lot too--most of his are about wars or masonry.
The books we keep reflect a lot about us--what we like, what we do, what we think about, and what entertains us. I find that I must constantly weed my home collection to keep it in bounds, or else add more space to store the books.
Of all my books that ones I cherish most are my West Virginia and Appalachian titles (by far the largest part of my collection) and my two volumes of The Storytellers Source Book. We have a set called World War II in Pictures given to me by my father, some titles written by my cousin, one ragged copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales that was mine when I was young, a supposed first edition (very worn) of Water Babies by Sir Walter Scott (but somehow I doubt the truth of this), and a few My Book House books that I loved when I was growing up.
An eclectic mix, I suppose, but probably no different than what would be found in the home of any reader. I find it comforting to be surrounded by books, knowing that at any time I can grab one and be transported to another place and time without anything more than a few sheets of paper in my hand. Now that is truly magical.