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The shelfish gaze
7 January 2005 08:00 pmMy reflex on entering any house or office is to look through the bookshelves. Which is a little bit of "hey can I borrow that" and, okay, a little bit of snooping, but it's also a personal introduction -- your books show a contour of your mind. I justify that mixed-motive claim by noting that the shelf I most want to check out is the most private of all: the nightstand. What does this person end the day with, intend to get to, keep by for comfort?
We call our nightstand the Heirloom: originally made in the 1940s by my grandfather (the town cabinetmaker and policeman) for my aunt when she went to college, it somehow ended up with my grandmother in the nursing home; it was my inheritance when she died. It's more a small set of shelves than a nightstand, but that's how we use it. On top is a revolving stack of (semi)current reading. The lower two shelves are the permanent bedside collection.
In the spirit of seasonal of self-examination, here's ( what's there now. )
So what do you keep by the bedside?
---L.
We call our nightstand the Heirloom: originally made in the 1940s by my grandfather (the town cabinetmaker and policeman) for my aunt when she went to college, it somehow ended up with my grandmother in the nursing home; it was my inheritance when she died. It's more a small set of shelves than a nightstand, but that's how we use it. On top is a revolving stack of (semi)current reading. The lower two shelves are the permanent bedside collection.
In the spirit of seasonal of self-examination, here's ( what's there now. )
So what do you keep by the bedside?
---L.