Weather: rainy off and on. THe flowers are happy.

Reading: The Buddha in Daily Life, Richard Causton (of which I need my own copy but can't find it in the US) and Writing Down the Bones Natalie Goldberg (and I need my own copy of that, too, but wasn't sure so I checked it out at the library)

Knitting: the green sweater, still, and the green afghan. I made purple slippers for myself a coupla weeks ago.

Stephen King uses this in “The Library Policeman,” citing it as a quote from Emerson on a plaque in a creepy library. “If you want to know how a man treats his wife and family, see how he treats his books.”

I don't know whether Emerson wrote that or not; I wouldn't put it past him.

My husband prefers new hardcover books over paperbacks. He sometimes gets paperbacks, but considers them temporaries. He likes books that are by his favorite authors, the new by the tried and true. He likes old books if they have autographs or are special in some way. He likes trade paperbacks on subjects he's interested in. He likes to own books, not to borrow them. He likes to keep his books neat and clean. He uses a bookmark. He does not turn corners of pages over. He does not lay them on their faces lest their spines get broken. He reads them very slowly, if at all, and then he organizes them, alphabetizes them, keeps them on shelves, tightly packed together. He doesn't look at them again, but he will not let them go, and he will not let others enjoy them, neither does he dust them. Since he got his Palm he's been getting a lot of books in formats for it, both the kind to read with eyes and the audio kind. He archives them after he's finished them. He shares them with me, first reading to make sure it's okay with the publisher, being careful to observe copyright regulations to the tee because he treats others as he'd want to be treated, at least in the area of intellectual property though he feels that can all easily be taken too far and he himself uses a Creative Commons license on all of his works except things he is purely giving away because he is a naturally generous fellow (or wishes to be seen as such). How does this translate to how he treats his wife and family? I'd rather not analyze that too carefully. I am glad, however, that I can both climb down off my shelf and dust myself every now and again.

I have books myself. I don't care whether a book is a hardcover or paperback so much, and am as inclined to keep paperbacks as I am to keep hardcovers. I actually prefer my fiction not be hardcover because they are unwieldy to read in bed and they cost more, so I am less inclined to give them away when I am finished reading them. If someone gives me a nice new hardcover book then I feel like it's a Big Present and I should like it. What if I don't? It's a heavy thing. I like reference books to be hardcover, and I like lots of pretty pictures. I have some knitting books that I love even though I might never make the things in them. I love the photos. I have some old paperbacks that are coming apart, and I will keep them forever because they were with me through hard times. I underline and use highlighter in books – not all books. Spiritual books, I think, and some other stuff. I don't know why it seems okay to mark up a Bible, but not fiction. I would never consider marking up a novel, unless it was a class assignment, and I shall continue to avoid classes that'd ask me to do that, btw. (Why do the words “studiously avoid” appear together so often?)

When I was first married to one of my exes, or maybe we were not married yet, but if we were not, then why did I ever marry him? he actually used highlighter in one of my -- MY!!! -- books! Right at the end, a book I read often and liked a lot. I was rocked to my socks. And yet, we continued. After awhile, heartsick, I got rid of that book and have not read it since. Now there was a man who treated his wife, come to think of it, like he treated books. He marked in someone else's book, considered all books his or taht he had none -- no right sense of belonging-ness to the man at all. Right then, had I known of that quotation, I would have known how it would go. His wife was a possession, to be used as he saw fit, no identity of her own. One time, after we were married and I had taken his name, I got mail addressed to me by my former name. He said, “That person no longer exists.” Well, excuse me, but she sure as hell did exist, and does exist again in truth, and by that name, and she shall ever keep that name and that identity that she chooses and here I am talking of myself in the third person. Gods.

I do not turn corners of pages over except in catalogs, and those are not books. I use bookmarks, but sometimes I turn a book over on its face, gently. I do not like books taht have ungenerous gutters so that I have to peer into the middle of the pages. A certain publisher does that, and I hesitate to buy any more of their books although I love their stuff and several of my friends have stories in their collections. I like all sorts of books, whether they are in fields I am interested in particularly or not. I have to avoid library book sales, you know, those sales where they sell off all of the donations, the books their patrons have given them that they couldn't unload on ebay. I stay away from those. There are too many things there. I like to visit the library. During the last month I have had books on handwriting analysis, Buddhism, telephone psychics, drawing faces and cartooning, and some children's books in French. I love books, and yes, I love my own more than ones belonging to others, I am not unnatural -- not in that way at any rate.

P.S. I have just tried the link here for "Black Crayons," that was published by Palace of Reason. I see that the website isn't there any longer. If anyone wants to read that story, let me know, and I'll send it to you. RIghts reverted to me some time ago, so it's okay.