August 6, 2013

My dearest,

We’ve bought a new bookcase months ago but we haven’t really gotten around filling its shelves with titles from its older companions. There is something instantaneously inspiring about rows upon rows of books, especially when they take centrestage in our home.

(Henry Ward Beecher once said, “Books are not made for furniture, but there is nothing else that so beautifully furnishes a house.” I’m not sure you’d agree.)

So many books but still I struggle to find the right one for reading in bed at night or to accompany some freshly-brewed green tea. Every episode is unique, and deserving of attention. There is as much pleasure to be had in investigating and determining the best story for the occasion.

Times like these I understand my friends who wail they have nothing to wear despite a room filled floor to ceiling with clothes.

(Hang on, what friends? I’m probably talking about you…)

Yours, ever and always.