I have book storage problems. And I own something called the Katie Owl, which a stranger gave me. These two topics are almost entirely unrelated.
I used to own an 850-square-foot downtown Denver loft with walls of windows and 270 degree views. Twenty-two-foot ceilings, windows, windows everywhere. The light in that place was incredible.
The more windows the better I said back when I was house hunting. Man, I love light.
The problem with walls of windows? Few walls for bookcases and books.
I also love books. When I left my massive home in Golden, Colorado, I also left behind massive amounts of wall space.
After I moved into the loft, I couldn’t figure out where my 2,000 books would go. At the time, I thought that 2,000 books + no wall space = book storage problems will magically work out in the end.
“Why do you own four copies of Pride and Prejudice and not even one spatula?” my friend Jen asked me.
“Who needs a spatula?” I asked her in return. I neglected to mention that I actually own six copies of Pride and Prejudice.
For the first month, my place was mostly empty. I had the four vintage chairs I bought from a furniture painter named Katie, a mattress on the floor, an orange file cabinet I used as a dresser, and 2,000 books in boxes. And one ceramic owl, also courtesy of Katie. I call it the Katie owl. I’m really good at naming things.
“That owl is not ceramic,” Jen said. “It’s plastic. Or encaustic. Or something. I don’t know what.”
Really, what it is, is unbreakable if you drop it on the floor.
My friend Jen swore she herself gave me the owl, but I told her she was mistaken. I then reminded her that what she did in fact give me was a two-foot-tall religious figure carved in wood.
“Oh yeah, now I remember,” she said.
