Many moons ago one of my favorite books was The Language of Flowers by Kate Greenaway. Do not know what happened to it; nags in my head that my ex gave it to someone, but I could be wrong.
After moving, moving, moving, I started to donate books I seldom read to the local library in whatever town we were leaving. I can not see me donating away the slim, much referred to, volume. As the years passed, I also started trying to sell books at flea markets. Little by little my beloved home library shrank. Hello homelessness, and all my books are gone.
Not all, some I gave to my son and oldest daughter or others who would appreciate them. Cookbooks that I gave to my mother, I later gave to my Aunt Evelyn because she collected them. Yet the disposition of The Language of Flowers is unknown to me.
We were always poor ~ poverty level ~ but I read a quote: Children who have parents who love them and a house full of books is never poor. Or something like that. I justified my book expenditures based on that quote. Thank goodness I mostly had nearby public libraries or friends who shared books.
Now that I joined Good Reads there is a link to number of books we own. Now, I only own one ~ a gift from my daughter. I have picked up some yellowing paperbacks left on an alley shelf; read one or two, then after a year or so, discarded them. This is embarrassing for me ~ being such an avid reader, but no home library.
After losing everything, I am not apt to splurge on books ~ or any household items, except the essentials. C'est la vie.
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