I finally figured out how to stitch some photos together, so I present to you the library as I first drew it:

And The Library as it is (don’t mind the occasional warped line from the software — it’s not that way in reality):

The “back-in-the-bookcase” view, as drawn:

Back in the bookshelf in reality (and yikes on the photo errors — I’m not so good at this stitching thing yet. But you get the idea):

Drawing looking in the doorway:

The reality:

And finally, a shot from a back corner of the room that shows off the wall of shelves and the sliding door (and only minorly messed up by my software ineptitude):

It smells like leather and wood and books in the library, which is as it should be. This is my little slice of heaven.

I’ve had this vision of a perfectly organized library, and it started that way. I’ve got my sets in order, I’ve divided sections by subject area, and I’ve even put all my fake first editions* in chronological order by publication date.

But I gotta be honest: I’m starting to poop out. I’m about ready to just throw them up there in any old place. I need to call it quits for the evening.

The Boy decided he wanted to be a part of the process. I was stretched out on the couch, ready to call it an afternoon when I heard … thump … thump … thump… I got up to see what was going on, and there he was, dragging another box down the stairs. When the boxes got too big to drag, he’d just bring up a smaller, empty box and fill it up. He’s smart like that.

I thought I could distract him with books I loved from my childhood, but The Boy just kept bringing more boxes and insisting on helping me shelve. Finally I had the successful idea of luring him away with pizza.

Damn it. I hear the thumping again. This is in real time, folks. The pizza must have given him new energy. Lucky for me, 8 o’clock is bedtime.

We got countertops today and flooring yesterday. I’m only some touch-up paint and window treatments (and putting away books) away from being done. I feel extraordinarily blessed to be so close to realizing a dream. It’s just so cool.

Pics from my phone as we work:

Everything’s all topsy-turvy as we figure out where its new home will be.

The goal here is to end up having everything standing upright and looking pretty, as well as making sense (to me, anyway).

As soon as I get it all moved in, I’ll take some photos with a real camera and do a “before and after” comparison. Should be fun!

Gotta go send the kids to bed.

Real-time comment from The Boy, 8:21 p.m. CST: “Mom, you’d better get some rest tonight. You know why?”

Me: “Why?”

TB: “Because I’m going to be ready to work tomorrow. So you’d better be ready too.”

I’m out.

——————————

*By fake first editions, I mean books reprinted by the First Edition Library, a now-defunct arm of the Easton Press. (Their blurb: “Each First Edition Library volume is identical to the original edition, down to the first critics’ comments printed on the jacket flap. The design of every volume is unique to its own era: the dust jacket artwork, hardcover bindings, typefaces, endpapers, title pages, even the minor errors that collectors look for.”) I like fake first editions better than real first editions because a) they’re cheaper,  b) I don’t feel guilty about reading them, and c) they’re pretty.

It has not yet been recorded that any human being has gained a very large or permanent contentment from meditation upon the fact that he is better off than others.

Main Street, a 1920 bestselling novel by Sinclair Lewis* that I finished this week, includes several of these little bon mots, but this particular line leaps to mind today. I know people with bigger troubles, but that’s not taking my mind off my little ones.

Mostly I’m focused on the fact that I had the first part of a root canal today and now my mouth is halfway numb and not working (making my coffee difficult to drink) while simultaneously throbbing with a deep, burning pain. (Not from the coffee.) I’m impatiently waiting for the painkillers to kick in. And contemplating how I have a minimum of four more dentist visits to finish this fix, all of which will require shots in the mouth that will heighten my paranoia that Dr. Bill or Dr. Dennis will sever a facial nerve in the process.

It could happen. Dr. Dennis told me so.

Also, The Big M has been out of town on business. I miss him. At least he’s coming back today.

And I’ve been working on my taxes. That’ll depress anyone.

And … (this is the embarrassing one) … I dropped my iPhone in the toilet. At least that didn’t happen today. I dropped it earlier this week. Today it’s working, thanks to a relatively inexpensive fix at a shop appropriately named Cell Phone Repair. I didn’t tell the Cell Phone Repair people *how* I got the water damage because I didn’t want to end up on Not Always Right.com. Unfortunately, Cell Phone Repair doesn’t guarantee their fixes in case of water damage, so my phone could crap out again at any time.

Ha ha. But really, it could.

Would you like to know what happens when you drop your iPhone in the toilet? First, your heart sinks at approximately the same rate as the phone does. Then you reach your hand into the toilet and pull the phone out in one swift motion while exclaiming, “Ick! Ick! Ick!” Then, as you do a quick visual scan of the bathroom to find a towel appropriate for drying the toilet victim, you glance down at the iPhone screen and see that a message has popped up. It says (and I am not making this up): “This accessory is not compatible with the iPhone. Would you like to switch to airplane mode?”

As I went through the drying out process, I wondered what kind of toilet might be compatible with the iPhone. Because apparently I could use one of those.

As I sit here planning out my pity party, I think to myself — What Would The Girl Do? If one were to throw a Pity Party Parade, she’d be the Grand Marshal. The child knows how to do it.

And then I chanced upon this:

Now the other side:

Open it up and:

Cuut! I love it!

She got exactly what she wanted in a card because she made it for herself! Now it’s my turn:

To Me, From Me:

Cute! I love it!

I feel better already. Part of that is because the painkillers are finally kicking in. But still.

Next week we’ll get flooring, and at that point I’ll get fully moved in to the library. Then I’ll post more pictures.

Have a great weekend!

——————————————–

* Sinclair Lewis is not to be confused with Upton Sinclair, author of The Jungle. I tell you this because I used to confuse the two of them and I want to spare you from having this problem. And now, looking at the Wiki entries, I see that not only did they know each other, but Lewis lived in Sinclair’s cooperative-living colony in New Jersey. Weird.

Here’s another shot of the coffered ceiling and the right side of the room:

And let’s not forget that fabulous door:

We were nervous about how this corner would turn out, but we feel pretty good about it now:

We still need countertops and the trim that butts into this one. I’m hoping to pick something out this week. That and flooring, and we’re ready to move in.

More pics to come.

and open …

and the couch fits!

And we’re not even done yet. Stay tuned.

More pics later.

Granted, the tools aren’t so pretty, but they’re not a permanent fixture.

The Big M holds up a door for one of the new cabinets:

This is going to be our file cabinet, with a Greene & Greene twist.

And just to give you a taste of what is to come:

Ignore the right side trim. It’s not on yet. But I think you see the vision here.

I’m looking forward to showing you pictures of the finished project.

Patience.

(I’m talking to myself.)

More pics tomorrow…

It arrived at noon.

It’s red. I’m breaking out of my beige phase.

It’s exactly 69 inches wide, and the opening for it to fit in is exactly 69.35 inches wide. That’s the drawn opening. I’m a little nervous. My builder has to be very precise for this unreturnable, custom couch to fit.

It’s a sleeper sofa. The bed is a queen-size platform bed with a surprisingly comfortable mattress. Platform means there are no bars to press into your back at night. It’s one solid surface beneath the mattress. We are about to have a new guest space.

This morning I had to schedule another root canal. This will be my third.

My darling children have the day off from school and have spent the better part of it bickering and whining.

Today has been a mixed bag. But the library continues to move forward, and that makes me happy. And the kids are entering a sweet phase, so I’m logging off to read to them.

Happy Friday!

Here’s the sliding “barn” door for the doorway:

Don’t worry. It won’t have all of those gaps. They were just dry-fitting it. Isn’t it cool?!!

Now here are some of the boxes for the bookshelves:

I almost hate to put up this photograph because it does no justice to the actual box. It’s a lovely cherry with a furniture-quality finish. It was like touching butter, if butter had rigidity and weren’t greasy.

They’re finishing up details and will assemble everything in the shop to make sure it’s perfect before bringing it to my house.

It’s like I’m five years old and it’s Christmas Eve. I can’t freakin’ wait!

Below is how it would look as you walk in. Complete wall of shelves on the left, couch on the wall opposite, bridged by shelves, small desk to the right, coffered ceiling, hardwood floor. Maybe some throw pillows for the kids and a rug.

View when sitting at the desk:

View with your back in the bookcase (not physically possible, but I wanted a better view of the room from that angle):

Here’s the reality we started with:

We had a ceiling fan and no flooring, thanks to a burst pipe in the walls that took out the carpeting. You haven’t lived as a homeowner until you’ve walked into your bathroom at midnight on a Sunday night to discover water around your ankles. But that’s another story.

Here’s how it looks right now:

The new lighting is in, and the ledgers for part of the coffering are also in. Window angle:

As you can see, we’ve ripped out all of the trim. It’s serious now.

I really, really, really hope I can show you significant progress by next week. Keep your fingers crossed.