I love books. I love to write them, I love to read them, I love the smell and feel of them.

I do not like packing them.

We sold the house yesterday (yay!) and now reality has set in. I have 6 weeks to pack my house of 10 years. The hardest part is sorting through the shelves and shelves of books. Even being as ruthless as possible, I still have 6 enormous boxes of books to move. That isn’t even counting my teacher books, that’s just my fiction books.

As I sorted through the books, I found myself sighing over ones I hadn’t read in a long time. I wanted to sit down and flip through them and catch up with old friends. For me, books are like comfort food. When I need to unwind or lick my wounds, I love to get lost in the pages of a good read.

Apparently, I need A LOT OF COMFORT, as my husband is sure to point out when it comes time to move all those boxes.

Nora Roberts, if I get a hernia, I’m blaming it on you, hahahahaha

Okay, back to packing!