Out, out, damned books
With enough empty boxes, and a long reach, one can acquire sore arms. Spent today reducing the personal library; found a local bookstore that thrives on donated material.
Painful, on so many levels. I read enough that not every book has made the “added to permanent collection” status. These are good books. And now, these are remembered good books. I went through a similar process before my last big move, and the experience of looking into the fiery pit have remained engrained. OK, it was an incinerator in Charlottetown, and the materials had been refused by the local used book store (not everyone shares my literary taste).
This time around, there is a technological alternative; ePub is my new personal choice. Sure, an ebook doesn’t come with mould or mites, but science will give us something equivalent.
I also decided that some older computers and test gear would also find a new place to hide from the winds of winter. Our EcoCentre. The only odd moment was when I asked where to put the bag of wires. Not sure he understood the volume, when he told me to pile all the stuff together. I needed to keep my genuine canvas mail sack, so the wires are going to come as a surprise to somebody. At a guess, about 30 Kg worth.
One day barely dents the accumulated wealth. Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow (from MacBeth; I may keep my paper anthology of the Bard’s ramblings). The bookstore gave us a pile of empty cartons, to ensure an ongoing supply of saleable stock.
After the books, there will be other stuff. I have been warned to “make it so”.
