Yes, I am addicted to books. I just ordered a book about celebrities who have died mysteriously or been murdered. It's called "Cut". I can't wait to read it. I wonder if it will have Jayne Mansfield.
I also ordered "The Velveteen Rabbit". I was telling my beau about it, and he said he'd never heard of it. I hadn't read it for years, and sadly it's not a part of my library. I do love children's books, and have some. So I thought, I can get it now and read it to him in the future. I do think Maggie on Northern Exposure was right. Everyone does love to be read to.

Now, though, I'm on to a Patricia Cornwell book, "Trace". I haven't read one in a while, and I think I missed one or two. I'm not sure what's going on with the main character. She's moved to another city! I'll have to catch up with Dr. Scarpetta. It cracks me up how I talk about her as if she's a real person, an old friend. But that is how books feel to me sometimes, like companions.

I've really truly been trying to cull the collection down. To have some to take to the bookstore so they can sell them in the used section. But then I get some store credit, to do what? To turn around and get MORE!! I have resisted the urge to get any more cookbooks though, and for that I am proud of myself. I really can't get rid of any of those yet, though there are some I have never used. That doesn't mean I never will.

I don't get it though. When I have a book that I won't likely read again, I see it and it somehow reminds me of a time or period in my life, and how it got me through, or helped me escape, or taught me something, or showed me a new sight. They are a part of me in that way, and in a sense, a part of my family.