but last night my partner had a big meeting for the organization she works with, needed the computer all evening, needed the dogs quiet, because she'd have to speak. so i took them down to my office in the basement, took the book i was reading, as well as a few subscription packages from small presses that have arrived the last few days.
and i finished my book, and then the lit mag from one press, the three chapbooks from another, and another half dozen little chapbooks and printed items from the third. and after i looked up two and a half hours had passed, and the dogs were snoring while i was sitting there in my office chair in the dim artificial light, a stack of finished items beside me.
our bookshelves are starting to fill up. well, they've been full for a while, and we moved a few more into the basement, crappy ones we've had for years in other rooms of the house, bookshelves that don't look great but still stand and can still hold books. and we haven't filled them yet, but instead we've just been piling up books on the other bookshelves. in the last year i've made half a dozen large piles. these will need to get sorted and shelved, and we'll need to figure out which of the new shelves belongs to whom, as our books move to fill those, too. but in those hours of reading i started a new pile, another dozen or so items. to be sorted; eventually, but not yet; it was incredible to lose myself in books for an evening again.
i'm reminded as i write this about a quip i saw on social media: you should be able to match with someone based on how many books they own