The neighborhood

So, I was going through some of the books at my parents house yesterday and discovered "The World According to Mister Rogers." How amazing does that sound? The vast amount of books inside my parents house is a frequent source of contention between myself and my mother. There are hundreds of books in that house. There are books on bookshelves, books in cabinets, books on tables, books in every bathroom, books in every room, and books stacked on the floor and in the corners. I moved back in with my parents at the end of August and have decided to do something about all the books. This makes my mother sad. There are, however, some amazing books and those will be taken with me when I move because I love those books. I love all the books really. Or maybe I love that my mother loves all those books and I love reading good books. I don't really know why my mother has collected so many books and why she has a hard time parting with them. Some of them, like the one by Mister Rogers, are just little readers that might take you an hour and might make a good gift. Others are hundreds of pages long and about subjects I couldn't be any less interested in reading about. My mother hasn't read all of the books either. She just likes to have them around I think. But there are definately, on average, more books coming in to the house than going out of the house. Something I always notice about other peoples' homes is whether or not there are any books. There will always be lots of books in mine.