I was sitting here contemplating the books piled on my reading shelf the other day and noticed an remarkable thing has happened…What once was predominantly fiction has become almost entirely not. Now bear in mind, my reading shelf is actually the two shelves on the bakers rack above the microwave in the kitchen. My wife gives me a hard time for taking over her shelves but they are right by my end of the table where I work with my computer.

There are a few cookbooks (naturally), a few non cooking food books, some guides to the mountains I dream about…a number of essay collections, a journal or two, a couple of notebooks (some with notes some without). A ten year old boxed set of National Geographic Cd’s with my newest acquisition, a 100 year hardcover index to the same magazine I picked up online for a sawbuck (when you include shipping).

There are some Dillard’s, some Berry’s, some Pollan’s, two Bittman’s, a Kingsolver, both First’s. I see Highroad Guides to North Carolina, Virginia, and Tennessee. A couple of guides to the Blue Ridge Parkway…Blue Ridge Country Magazine, Our State Magazine…Living In The Appalachian Forest…Slow Road Home…Blue Highways…The Lost Continent…

There is one fiction collection that I was given for Father’s Day. It is a Treasury Of Great Science Fiction. I haven’t really looked at it yet because I am living with the anticipation of reading it again after fifty years…

I am not sure what set these musings wandering through my mind, but, so much for my daily coffee muses…