Bad Cold by Shel Silverstein

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  This cold is too much for my shortsleeve. Go get me a Kleenex--and fast. I sniffle and wheeze And I'm ready to sneeze And I don't know how long I can last.... Atchoo--it's to wet for a kleenex, So bring me handkerchief, quick. It's--atchoo--no joke, Now the handkerchief's soaked. Hey, a dish towel just might do the trick. Atchoo--it's too much for bath towel. There never has been such a cold. I'll be better off With that big tablecloth, No--bring me the flag off the pole. Atchoo--bring the clothes from the closet, Atchaa--get the sheets from the bed, The drapes off the window, The rugs off the floor To soak up this cold in my head. Atchoo-- hurry down to the circus And ask if they'll lend you the tent. You say they said yes? Here it comes--Lord be blessed-- Here it is--Ah-kachoooo--there it went.

Bookshelves

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Some may look at this, shrug and click on through. Others will open their e-mail or pick up the phone wondering if I've lost my mind. Perhaps I have. I thought I would try something different. Everything's still in order--it just looks different.

While rearranging I discovered a few surprises, one being that each stack has a life of its own and many require a delicate touch. These are more than just piles of books, but an exercise in balance and quiet control, thoughtfulness. One does not just take a book from the shelf. One must handle softly, move, rearrange, stack and re-stack. The shelves become ever an ever-changing work of art.

Less than 15 minutes after finishing, one faculty member froze in his tracks outside my door then spent nearly 10 minutes commenting on the fresh look. He mentioned that he, too, might do the same and he would call me for advice. I refused to help, not because of the workload (there's not much, really--and it's quite fun), but the experience is singular for the bibliophile.


Ordered Chaos.
Disarray under control.

Oh, and did I mention how much shelf space opened up with this new arrangement?


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