Happy Homemaker, Ph.D.

A novice homemaker's attempts to use her engineering Ph.D. to serve her family

Flashback Friday – Remembering The Book Closet

We are in the process of moving our home office downstairs to prepare a room for Baby.  This has been an ongoing challenge due to many factors (that I’ll likely be posting more about as I find issues I need to work on as I start this new season):

  1. I also moved all of my school office books and supplies home last month.  These have never needed a place in our home before.
  2. I’ve had three years to clutter up the office with my good intentions and little time to organize or go through the many papers I’ve collected.  I have a rather major problem with this habit.
  3. I have too many books and not enough shelves.  This has been a lingering problem since we moved to Kansas and I was reunited with the many books I left in storage when I moved away for graduate school.
  4. My time to work on this project is limited by other tasks and is mostly only possible when my toddler is sleeping since she likes to “help.”  🙂

But, my amazing husband gave me a new book case for Christmas, and the “new” office is taking shape.  I carefully selected which books would make the “cut” to be on this special shelf.

The top shelf is filled with the books from my grandmother.  I have desired these books ever since I discovered them many, many years ago while exploring Grandma’s “junk room” in an upstairs bedroom of their old farm house.  The room was cluttered with miscellaneous toys, furniture, and more.  The light primarily came from two windows, but my sister and I often took up the red fluorescent flashlight to explore the room in more depth.

There were two closets in the room.  Neither had lights within, so by the glow of the flashlight, I perceived shelves of old books.  I cannot remember a time when I didn’t love books!  I savored the musty smell.  Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Longfellow.  Classics and poetry, all bound in leather with different colors and textures – and very old.

I can’t count the times I went upstairs to that closet just to look at the books.  Sometimes I would read from them.  Often I didn’t, but I held a sense of awe for the books and the collector.  These books weren’t Grandma’s.  She said they belonged to either her father or her Aunt Emma, a maiden school teacher who lived with the family while my dad was growing up.   I felt a connection to the original owner, and I hoped that one day, I would be able to have these books – and a library of my own.

The dream of having my own library will have to wait, but I do have the books.  The treasured volumes from Grandma’s house have their place of honor on my new shelves.  My own, newer, but no less beautiful, leather-bound copies of many of the greatest books ever written (according to Easton Press) also have their places in book shelves around the house.

For the ones that remain without a designated place, I may have to create my own book closet.  Perhaps it will excite and inspire the younger ones in our family as Grandma’s closet did for me…


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