Forget the views, I could live in the Baccarat Hotel & Residences on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan just because of those fabulous floor-to-ceiling book casees.
See for yourself: Turn to the inside front cover of yesterday's New York Times Magazine.
Actually, if someone gave me enough money to live at the Baccarat I woiuld also have to make a substantial investment in books.
I have two small bookshelves in our bedroom. And not every shelf has books on it.
It's not always been this way, of course. For years and years I lugged dozens of boxes full of books from one house to another to another. I had huge shelves full of books -- after the boxes were unloaded.
Then as we contemplated a move from Wichita Falls to Temple in 2007, I wondered why I would want to put all those books back into boxes and put them in a dusty garage, which is where they were going to have to go in our new Temple house because of a lack of wall space.
Now, some of these books were classics I had bought and read in college back in the 1960s. Some were textbooks I had to buy back then, too.
Crazy, I thought. Truly, I told myself, I will never read any of those books again. And truly I would not and will not.
So I gave almost all away to a charitable enterprise and moved a few boxes of stuff I just could not give up.
Just one more reason I won't be moving into the Baccarat with those glorious book shelves.
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