I Am Mister Fairchild

Today I walked to my local library not knowing they had an estate sell of books--many of which were quite old and beautiful. I giggled. It was like a candy store! "Fill a bag up for $3.00," they said. And the tears took over my eyes...

Maybe it wasn't that dramatic. 

Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress published in 1894.
I stuck this book in the bag because of my love for Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women" in which the sisters play out the different parts of the book and build their castles in the sky.

The start of the book begins with an apology for the book written by the author. How funny!

Friends, I don't know if you get as excited as I do about old books, but it's even more of an adventure when my eccentric great uncle--the King of Bookworms--arrives and begins to help me pick and choose which books to put in my bag. It was only slightly embarrassing when he announces to the few patrons there that a published author is in their midst and wildly points to me.

I've unpacked the bags and tried to find places for all the books. I know that my home is crazy and packed and embodies all kinds of passions and art. Maybe it would be best if I didn't collect anymore books? Maybe I will end up like Sabrina Fairchild's father in Sabrina? Books will become furniture. Books will become the floors and walls. Books will decorate every nook and every cranny...

But I will collect them anyway.


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