st louis « Robin Writes

A few weeks ago, I listed some of my favorite authors; while their books are tucked here and there on my shelves, I thought you might want to know what else is lurking around the office—and living room.

Looking straight out across my desk, I have two bookcases. They’re practically antiques: cheap, put-it-together-yourself from a discount store. Unbelievably, they’ve lasted for 25 years and countless moves; there are two more against the wall behind me.

Facing me are the non-fiction titles: several by Zig Ziglar, whom I met years ago, a Yahoo style guide from my days of article writing, horse books, psychology books, criminal justice, Black’s Law Dictionary, sociology, personality stuff, career guides, and a lot more. They’re mostly categorized by subject. I also have two shelves of antique books.

Behind me, again in the cheapo cases, are more of the same.

To my right, in three bookcases that my husband built, are my hardcover fiction and books written by authors I know—and of course, an entire collection of RHP books. These are all mostly categorized by author. Mostly.

That means that all the King books are together, all the Koontz, etc. Not that the Ks are all together or anything, or even that the Ks follow the Js. I’m not that OCD.

Oh, and in the middle case, I have a collection of antique law books that I picked up at auction in Texas—way cool, even if the covers are crumbling. Shelved with and below those are my collection of vintage Black Stallion books, plus my great-grandfather’s collection of Zane Grey novels.

Now, in the living room, two husband-built bookcases hold all my paperbacks, stacked to fit. Mostly by author, but really—fit is important!

If you know me at all, even a teensy bit, you’ll know that I’m not fan of the romance genre. Yes, I used to read them, back in the day, but even then not constantly.

But I do seem to have quite a collection of Danielle Steel . . . and Rosemary Rogers. Remember her? Of course you do! And Steve and Ginny? Ah, yes—I do still remember those books! But mostly I’ve got mystery and horror. Odd combinations, yes?

All the papers are signed, the closing date is set, all the details worked out for possession, etc.

And I’m a mess.

You know how it is when you have SO MUCH to do? Me, I just kind of shut down. Random thoughts fly through my head at odd moments, and when I have a chance to sit down and think and make lists, my mind goes blank.

As you can guess, this plays havoc with my company. And family. And day-to-day stuff.

But we do have a plan. Sorta:

Actually see the place.
Go to the auction on March 14.
Walk the property—this is separate from the first thing on the list, because initially we just need to see the buildings and check it all out.
Decide where a few outside improvements are going to be built. We’d originally planned to camp while we were building the cabin, and even though it’s more like remodeling and cleaning now, we still need a place to sleep and cook and shower and all that. So that’s first on the building list. Plus, there will be a place for ALL OUR FRIENDS to stay while they’re um, helping. [wink, wink]
Start the clean-up. The seller is having an auction, but we don’t really know how much of the “stuff” will be sold and removed, and we don’t know how much of the leftover stuff will be taken away. And, too, there’s some trash and things, overgrowth, and who knows what that will be need to be cleaned out.

Based on the calendar and our schedules, we hope to have these things done within a few weeks after closing; by the first of May, at least. Once school is out for the summer, we’ll have more time to go down there and stay for a few days or so. Of course, we won’t just be working—what’s the fun in that?

Next up will be putting storage stalls in the barn so we can start moving stuff out of our garage—if you’ll recall, over the last year I’ve been moving things into a big pile for a garage sale and packing up all the other things, memorabilia, etc., that I don’t want to exactly get rid of, but we don’t use. You know, kids’ mementos, papers and things from my grandparents, those kinds of things.

Our sale is set for April, and when it’s over, EVERTHING left—that the kids don’t take—will be donated. Stick a fork in me, I’m done. Ruthless. That’s the keyword.

And then we have the house itself to deal with. The stuff. That’s all moving out too, eventually, to the garage for the next sale. Whew.

By the way, I hate garage sales. Loathe them. Despise them. Words are not strong enough to describe how truly terrible it is to have a garage sale . . .

So, up and at ‘em, onward and upward, and so forth. Go forth. Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m getting a little loopy making all these lists!