Wrist Wrecking, Book Meme, Spring Break

It's not enough to blister my hands by pulling weeds: apparently I have to wreck my wrists, too, by hauling 30-pound concrete blocks. This lovely high-tech creation is my compost bin, made of cinder blocks from the old barn foundation. It's built on part of the concrete from the porch of the derelict farmhouse that was on the property when we bought our house.

I've used it for a couple of years and had already started throwing stuff at one end while letting the stuff in the other end rot for a year. Yesterday I decided to formalize that by building a divider in the middle. I'll shovel out the nice black compost from the left bin so I have a place to throw stuff this year, and meanwhile I'll let the coffee grounds, cabbage leaves, and grapefruit peels rot in the right-hand bin until next year.

I love this meme: take a photo of your bookcases and talk about them. (Consider yourself tagged.)

From left to right, the eight-foot bookcase with most of our science fiction paperbacks in it; (Should I mention that it's double-stacked or that I've read almost all of them?) the shelves with my origami, textile history and tatting books; another eight-footer of dog training books, baby books, and Victorian history books; the bookcase that houses my collection of Asimov's and Terry Pratchett books; and a shelf with most of my field guides and the complete collection of Andrew Lang fairy stories.

I've omitted another bookshelf that has mostly my husband's books on it, the rack that holds mycological field guides and Calvin & Hobbes and Far Side collections, and a bookcase that is solid with children's books. And the random piles of pulled-out books I'm referring to at any given time that haven't made it back on the shelf.

We, ah, like to read here. Which probably accounts for our son reading the books in the sixth-grade room. (He's in the second grade.)

Spring Break: Our son's spring break is next week, so blogging will probably be sporadic as we enjoy the spring weather roller coaster and wrestle over control of the computer mouse. [mine, mine, it's mine, bu-wah-ha-ha-ha!]