You might have noticed that, for once, I have not made any New Year's Resolutions this year. Normally, I really love thinking of new projects to do for the year, but with my back being almost as bad as it was last year and a long, hard year finished, I think my main focus this year is just going to be to get my back healed. The fact that I was out breaking ice off the sidewalk and driveway yesterday and can actually still MOVE today is progress, but I still have a long way to go.
I am, however, continuing my 100-books-a-year project, and have one new twist to add this year: at least 12 of the books need to be books I have moved at least once and which may not be shelf-worthy. This came about mostly from this:
I realize that with our long history together, my expectations were rather high for this book, and having discovered Deric Longden's The Cat Who Came in From the Cold last year, the bar was rather high, but it still boils down to having lugged around a rambling, disjointed book by a rather unlikeable man for 10 years. Of course, Mr. Amory is completely unaware of the trouble his book has caused me, and I can hardly fault him for that as I'm not even positive he's still alive, but I am still feeling slightly chuffed that I have probably put more effort into this book than he did. So this morning I attacked our book shelves, which all look about like this: