Books I never finished reading...
After three weeks of Warrior Girl (who I am shortly going to give her own blog), I am back to the all important questions of what to give away, what to keep.
You know I am cheating when I reach for books. Well, not cheating, exactly, but going for the easy pitch, the throwaway line. I could have equally chosen:
- My bookkeeper, who I hired back for exactly one month after doing the books myself for ten years. A lovely and talented lady but whose presence didn’t really advance the ball. My fault, a failed experiment in delegation. Perhaps I should have held on for a few more months, but I quickly realized that (a) I am deeply set in my ways where financial record-keeping is concerned, and (2) I believe that control-freak tendencies where business finances are concerned is not a bad thing. So, on the other hand, perhaps not a failed experiment at all.
- My weekly cleaning lady, a kind and hardworking soul, who helped me beat the house into a semblance of cleanliness for four years. She was the last in a series of cleaning ladies I`ve employed through my entire lifespan as a homeowner. After having had household cleaning help all these years, I realized it might make sense for me to clean the house myself so that I could properly understand the job I was delegating to someone else. I let her go last September. Ten months later, I haven’t looked back. My house is, arguably, dustier, but I rather like it this way
- My broken Kubota lawn tractor. I am not sure how broken it was, but after allowing it to sit dormant for the last three years, while I delegated the summertime job of lawn-taming to some hardworking local teenagers, I couldn`t see the point in fixing it, nor even bothering to have a repair shop look at it. I called up John the local Junk Removal Guy, and he graciously came immediately and swept it away to better use elsewhere.
As for the books, I have a rule: if I will read it again, I can keep it; if not, then out she goes. That`s the theory, at least. Better that books be out in the world where someone else might enjoy them than languishing on a shelf, serving only as dust-magnets (and thus adding to the housecleaning noted above). I didn’t finish reading any of these books the first time around and besides, I’ve pretty much gotten over getting mad (such is the magic of turning forty). So, passing them on is a no-brainer. Well, almost a no-brainer: Wait, what if the kids might want to read these some day? What am I going to put on the cavernous new bookshelves we’re having built? What about selling them on Ebay? Ebay. Right. That is exactly what started this stack in the first place. I pack the books in a big paper bag and place them by the back door ready to be delivered to the used bookstore downtown. Nah, that`s not cheating, after all.