I’d like to have a library in the old-fashioned sense of the word. You know, one of those rooms lined floor to ceiling with dark wooden shelves. Tomes of every imaginable subject would rest in piles on every surface. There would be a few comfy chairs bathed in good lighting. There would probably be a fireplace to take off the chill. And – if it could be arranged – a nice bay window that overlooked a permanent thunderstorm outside.
We have a good start on our library. Daniel keeps his books stacked in a handsome bookshelf in his room. A less handsome bookshelf holds other books in his closet. Meka’s office contains several bookshelves filled with classical works from her college days along with more whimsical fare. As for me, the bookshelf in my office is – alas – buried under practical manuals for software. Most of my real books are in boxes in the basement and my primary library is the bathroom.
Like a lot of people (though they are probably ashamed to admit it), I get a lot of reading done in the bathroom. I find it doesn’t take a lot of thought (my diet includes a lot of fiber), so I multitask. I catch up on my industry magazines, read a short story or a quick chapter in a novel. I don’t have a bookshelf in there, not even a coffee table. I keep my books on top of my T-shirt drawer in the closet and my latest magazines on the scale. There aren’t any windows in the bathroom, no fireplace and the atmosphere… well, we won’t go there. However, there’s good lighting in the bathroom. We have an overhead light and one of those bar lights over the sink area with half a dozen clear light bulbs that erase any shadows.
As for the seating, I would never describe our porcelain throne as “comfy. However, the nice thing about books is their portability. If I get interested in something, I can always walk out with it into the rest of the house where the seating arrangements are better padded.