judging a book

There was a time in my life that I thought that I would far prefer the gift of a book than, say, flowers. It was my idea that roses and posies would wilt, die, and fade and that a book and its contents would endure forever. Now, nearly buried in my hoarded books, I am rethinking this notion of enduring forever.




I have books whose contents ought never to have endured the publishing process, let alone my dragging them about the country with me.

So now, in my years wizened by experience and back-breaking book-hauling, I have reconsidered the gift of flowers and the blessed release of returning their components to the circle of life when their spent blooms adorn the top of the compost pile. My first days of class this week, my desk was made beautiful by the bouquet gifts of administration and one student, encouraged and enabled by his thoughtful mother.

This being said, my mailwoman is not aware of my decreased interest in hoarding books. - ah' thanks be to Amazon. (http://www.amazon.com)