My Little Free Library

Books.

Hard bound. Soft bound. Tattered at the edges. Stains on the pages. Holding a page in your hand.

I love BOOKS.

Much like I loved the newspaper.

I'm a tactile person. I need to touch. Feel. Experience.

A couple of months ago I was reading a paperback book. You know, the old fashioned kind. One that was printed.

I had picked it up at a "My Little Free Library"

This author I had read before. My sister had read this book. I was about half-way through the book. Then I left the book on the plane.

Instead of buying another copy, I downloaded it. Then finished the book.

Part of me still doesn't feel like I "read the book" - even though I know the ending.

I have a "Little Free Library" in my yard.

They have been popping up in my neighborhood for years. I have wanted one for years.

I'm one of those people - if I want something, I usually go get it. But for some reason I could not justify this expense. I'm not sure what it was that held me back.

My dad and step-mother normally send me money for Christmas. This year, I asked them to please order me a Little Free Library.  It arrived late. It had to be painted. It needed not only some parts, but installation as well.

The only thing I knew I could cover was the painting.

Long story short. I painted it. I bought the extra parts. I paid a local handy man to install.

I LOVE books.

I LOVE everything about books.

Now I wonder what the stories the books have heard to make it into my yard. I have two stories. The one from the book. The one from the person whom put the book in the library.

The purpose of the library in my yard: take a book, leave a book.

There have been children's books. Teen lit (and the day I found a Beverly Cleary book I was ecstatic. The day I discovered it was gone, was a bit sad).

I put "Fifty Shades of Grey" in the Library. (I had the book for years, someone told me it was very poorly written, so I never read it - it sat on my nightstand for years, the library was the perfect place to pass it on".  It took over two weeks for someone to take it.

There is an older couple whom stops by every Wednesday. He parks the car in front of my house. He comes over and opens her door. He walks her to my library on the side yard.

I can't actually see the library from my house - unless I go sneaking around.

Sometimes,  I think I need to get a life.

Sometimes,  I think I need to go out and talk to the couple - the little couple whom visits my library.