Rainbows of colour

Isn't this the most dreamy and swoon-worthy set up ever? My little pod of a house is nowhere big enough to house all of my books right now. Most are languishing in storage at various kind relatives' homes until they can all be reunited happily one day.

As a fairly organised person, I tend to categorise books by author or category, and held to this pretty steadfastly over the years. But I suddenly realised - and it may be the aesthetic reverie brought on by chotda's house - that this is totally, ahem, unnecessary, and indeed could be a little bit too OCD even for me.* I'm not even sure what I thought the worst case scenario was going to be - a bookmergcy? Taking one minute to find a book instead of thirty seconds?

So now I dream of rows of coloured books smiling happily at me from their shelf. And at the risk of dangerous over-personification, they seem so thrilled to have found their little spot in the world.


*Although I should mention that this image did make me want check what colour the spine of a new book purchase would be before I bought it, so maybe OCD it is...