My Jack Higgings book collection occupies top center spot of the brand new bookcases. (I decided that was the place of honor.) They're neither first editions nor hardback for the most part, because I'm a *reader* not one of those people who...well, those other people. (There are book collectors who will look you straight in the eye and tell you the worst thing you can do to a book is actually read it. I think those people should be slapped hard.)
I finally got my salt and pepper shaker collection out of boxes and into a glass fronted cabinet. The collection was started by my grandmother, who managed to pick up quite a few of the "classics" in her travels. (I have a book, and got to say "hey! I've got that!" about a set on the cover.)
Hobbies? I read. I write. I stare at my over-pruned roses and groan a lot. (I don't know a damned thing about roses, but I'm hoping to learn. I hope I don't have to start learning by replacing the 6 bushes I may have killed.)
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Some days, it's not even worth chewing through the restraints.
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