As yesterday’s entry rolled around in the space between my ears, a thought occurred.
Why do I keep so many books? If they aren’t suitable for ‘my ideal bookshelf’ or for reference purposes, do they serve any purpose? What is the emotional attachement to books read (fully or partly) years ago?
Could this be the start of a radical de-cluttering? Why does the prospect fill me with a degree of horror? It seems eminently sensible. Fewer shelves to dust, more space to use, maybe even restoring some order out of the chaos of books in just about every room in the house.
Maybe less is more. Hmmm, food for thought!
Has anyone been brave enough to take a similar approach?