Damn, That Hurt or How I Fell Off The Wagon

In the spirit of full disclosure I hereby admit that I’ve already fallen off the wagon.  But I do claim extenuating circumstances.  As part of our 25th Anniversary week my wife and I visited the Carl Sandburg home.  Sandburg was a fascinating man and being in the midst of his greatness was heady.  His home still has his collection of literally thousands of books; paperbacks to leather bounds, research tomes to pop novels, floor to ceiling, corner to corner.  I came to realize that I had no Sandburg in my collection whatsoever.  And it was a special location.  And a special occasion.  And the proceeds go to the fund to keep his house in good nick for future generations.  So I bought.  But I only bought three and one is his biography autographed by the author.  And I figure I’m still on the first book of the hundred (Shogun is one incredibly long novel) and because I was spending money from a recent insurance settlement I didn’t use any of the funds set aside from the Book Journey project.

So, with all these excuses as my armor I draw a line in the sand and recommit myself to the original plan; no more book purchases until I’ve read one hundred books already in my possession.  And three of those hundred may turn out to be by Sandburg.


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