This title, a parody on Flannery O’Conner’s A Good Man is Hard to Find. Actually, I think a good book is easy to find. This is why I am surrounded by so many. I’m not sure how this came to be, but as the cliched phrase goes “it is what it is.”

It was a sorting day at the recycling center. Walked into the work area, and there, before me, was a table with about a dozen boxes of books piled high. This was far below the usual number. Bill soon joined me. I mentioned to him that as of late the book supply seemed on the low side. We do not know what’s going on. We are wondering if the weekday shredders are feeling energetic.

We sorted what was on hand and then plundered the recycling center bookstore. Most of the books in the two small, large closet sized rooms were books Bill and I set aside several months ago. During the great purge, which is the time in which the powers that be dictated that all books on site be shredded, numerous books were salvaged and placed on the newly built bookshelves.

Destined for pulp mill

Recycling center visitors or avid readers can go down the one flight of stairs, to the two rooms, and pick out books. Unlike the books in the distribution areas in town, which are free, these books cost money.

I call these two rooms the primary book holding area. These books will serve as secondary distribution source material. The secondary holding area is the Meeting House. More and more, I see this as a site where books are further sorted, categorized, cleaned, and then sent out for distribution. I’m actually moving books that are here on shelves back into the recycling center primary book holding area.

The plunder – Bill and I filled several cardboard boxes with books; he took some for his distribution sites, and I took the rest to the Meeting House. These books will go to Alaska Family Services in town, and to the Scammon Bay School, which is a remote village.

On the way home, Pete and I stopped in town and I put three boxes of books on the shelves at Vagabond Blues. There I met Haven, age 6, and Grandma, known to most as Jodi. Haven told me that she likes books about oceans. Interesting, neither she nor Grandma seemed to know how to handle books. For the longest time, that is before I handed them books, they just stood looking at them. Could it be that for many, the tactile sense inherent to holding real books is being lost?

Pete and I concluded our book day by dropping six or so cardboard boxes full of books off at the meeting house. None that we dropped off are going to stay there.

I really feel like that we now have a system. It’s sort of like having a household – if you have shelves and more shelves then you have it made. I suspect that shelves have enabled many a hoarder from being labelled a hoarder.

Next: 80. 3/21/21: Books, Books, and more Books