I think that someone else is living in my body. It can't be me who is attacking all of the old books in our bookcases. I have bags of books that have reached the clutter point and it is time for someone else to enjoy them. I have paperback books that
have a price tag of .25cents. That was a long time ago. I have a book that I wrote my name in ,in the penmanship of a much younger person. There is one book that was given to our oldest child over 50 years ago. I'm sending that to her. What she does with it,I
don't want to know. Then I have a few nursing books. Why? The meds are all different,probably procedures too. Most of the books aren't even my friends. There are a few I can't part with. I have "Anne Frank's Dairy of a young Woman. " The cover is faded. I
can't give this book to anyone. Then I have a book my Mother in law gave me, so many years ago. "A Woman of Independent Means".I think that they made a movie from it. I think about that book, often. I took the message to heart and always had my independence
and slush fund. Then I found our "weather or Not" notebooks. Years of recording the daily weather at our cottage. I'll keep those. We recorded the weather and a morsel of what might have been going on or who was a guest. It is fun to see that it was 48degrees
on July fourth in 1963. GoodWill will benefit from the bag of books I have decided not to keep. I don't understand how the bookcase still looks so full.I tried. Really.