The library

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I’M A READER, and I always have been. This lifestyle amplified in 1996 when I went on the wagon. When you’ve got a snoot-full, you’re not much inclined to open a book.

Most of my life I’ve preferred histories and biographies, factual stuff, over novels. That preference remains in place, but I’m a bit more open to novels than I once was.

Since moving to Mexico, I’ve read War and Peace and Anna Karenina, but I still lean more to histories and bios.

When we constructed the Hacienda in 2002-03, we had these shelves and cabinets specially made. The cabinets extend a good bit farther to the right. It all cost just $500.

It used to be a library, but now it’s a museum, a focus of interest. The books are dead. We buy them no more.

There’s a warm feeling to a library, no matter its size, so this will stay put. The shelves are good spots to place pictures too.

If you click on the photo, and then enlarge it, you’ll get fuzzy views of the two of us, my child bride’s father, her brothers, my daughter and mother, and so on.

Against the right-side wall is a wooden holder with smaller shelves where music CDs sit. The same carpenter — a guy named Angel — built that too, all to my specifications.

As with paper books, we no longer buy music CDs. Our music comes to us digitalized, and so do books, which fly through space and land inside our Kindles. We both have one.

I know people who continue purchasing paper books. I find this cute and amusing, and I attribute it to their not really having tried the Kindle option, which is so much more convenient. You can even bookmark pages!

They will, of course, get on board in time.

Hanging on the wall there to the right is an artwork that I purchased my first month here on the mountaintop 16 years ago. It’s titled Vendor of Hearts, but in Spanish, of course. It was part of an exhibit on a hotel restaurant wall.

It’s painted on butcher paper. And standing atop the old record player in front of that art is a witch doll. Lordy!