So this evening I have, in fact, literally been dusting and reshelving stacks and stacks of books, as the tail end of one of those endless-regression tasks.
Backstory: One of the solar installers back in December wrong-footed while up under the roof and cracked the living room ceiling panels in a couple places, so that had to be repaired and then the ceiling needed to be painted to cover the repair (they footed the bill.) We also decided to pay the painter extra to recaulk the panels and do the dining room, kitchen, and hallway too.
Painting the ceiling meant all the books had to come off the topmost shelves in the living room and get moved to the back, and once that was done it became apparent that:
- The books really badly needed a dusting - cobwebby, with drifts of cat fur and bug crap and stuff on them.
- The shelves, especially behind the books, were filthy with years of dust and bug crap and cobwebs. Just nasty. Have I mentioned neither of us is big on cleaning?
- All the shelves were warping from the weight of the books, and the top and bottom shelves weren’t properly screwed onto the cross-braces, making the top shelf droop and the uprights less stable.
- I couldn’t stand the thought of putting the books back on dirty shelves or putting them back in without fixing it up.
So, once the painting was all done, I started clearing out more shelves in groups so that I could drill and put in some more screws to reinforce each of the bookshelves, from the top shelf up into the cross-brace at the back, and from the bottom shelf down into the cross-brace/kickpanel at the bottom. I finished the last of those last night and have been dusting and reshelving more books in the living room this evening - mostly from my wife’s psychology collection - though I’m not quite finished yet.
I enjoyed a bonus quiet chuckle as I observed myself dutifully dusting and reshelving her collection of books on feminism.