There is a
shallow but wide alcove in my living room, and it has been crying out for
bookshelves since the house was constructed seven years ago. Today I finally managed to outfit this lonely
rectangle with two sets of bookshelves, named, believe it or not, “3.14” by
their manufacturer. Via catalog and in
person, I have admired these simple wooden shelves, figuring that their glossy
white paint would add a crisp touch to the room and that their backlessness
would allow the swirls of the alcove’s integral plaster to show through. So despite this morning’s storm, I felt
energized to commit to them. I left Pi, crossed
the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge amidst an aqueous gray in every direction,
purchased the unassembled shelves on Fourth Street in Berkeley, loaded them
into my amazingly spacious mini cooper, and headed back again. I quickly managed to put them together and by
1:30, they were up and ready to go. They
look great. I love home projects!
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