Image from Flickr
Eliot may have measured his life in coffee spoons, but my life seems to be measured in boxes of books. I've got more waiting at the door, ready to be carted down to the garage and stuck in my trunk. It seems like I'm doing this dance every weekend, taking more and more away. My bookshelf is empty, two desks are empty (I've got about four desks of varying styles and sizes) and the contents of a linen closet are getting fewer and fewer. It never seems to be enough, though. There always seems to be more waiting for the next round. But, I am pleased to announce that several of these boxes are bound for the thrift shop, which is good news all around. I think I will make a pact that every weekend, when some boxes go home, so must some articles go to good-will. Hopefully that will be a resolution I can keep.