Damn Fool Books

There is a room in my house that is completely free of books but don’t worry, this situation will be remedied as soon as is humanly possible. Wonderful work is being done by Graham, Mossie, Dermo and Sparks: knocking walls down, bricking them up again, putting in a new ceiling replete with four fancy lights plus dimmer switch if my heart so desires. But best of all is the 85mm thick layer of insulation that will act like an inner duvet on all the walls along with magic material to go under the carpet so that not a single draft whistles past my delicate ears as I sit and read.

I’ll not lie to you; it has been hard preparing for this redesign. Every single book that crowded on multiple shelves had to be bagged and carried up one flight of stairs, then up a rickety ladder leading to the attic now choc-a-bloc with books, books, and more books. It was so hard not to stop and have a quick look at old treasures that I haven’t opened for years such as Tarry Flynn by Patrick Kavanagh, a great story first published in 1948. All I can remember is the image of young Tarry daydreaming and reading while his mother, who thinks he should be out working in the fields, shouts at him and says, you and your damn fool books!

Well, me and my damn fool books shall not be parted for long, I hope, though, Dermo thinks I should slim down my collection just a tad and not be ruining my lovely new uncluttered front room. Fat chance!!!