Can you throw me an email? I’m raidergirl3 at gmail dot com. I have a thought.

Never never do I ever suggest that I might ever get a new car, if my present car is around to hear me. Even when it’s not around I try to talk about an eventual new car in the far future, like, “When I get a new car probably around 2035…” I don’t want it to think I want a new car because I really, really do not.

I love it how many people have stories about the things they assign souls to! I mostly do it with objects that do things, like my car or little wind-up toys, or, I don’t know, my little coffee-maker. I rarely worry about the feelings of books, for instance, even though I love books a lot.

I do this all the time. It was really bad with my old car. Sometimes she wouldn’t start so I would encourage her and pet the steering wheel. And it ALWAYS WORKED!! Seriously. Then my husband started talking about it being time to buy me a new car and I would yell at him if we were within earshot of my old car. Once we were driving and I yelled “earmuffs” and cupped my hands over the steering wheel. I miss my old car.

Oh, no, I don’t really talk to things. It’s all about worrying about their feelings. I have lots of free-floating guilt, and sometimes I feel guilty over actions I take against inanimate objects because I’m afraid I’ve hurt their feelings.

I’m not really an anthropomorphizer. Not even with my plants, which most gardeners will oochie coo without shame.

But if it’s a matter of assigning souls, not talking to things? Trees and antique furniture. I have been moved to sleepless rage and tears by homicidal tree-prunings, and literally nauseated by the maiming of antique beds. A wood thing, I guess.

My bookshelves have no preferences, though I like the idea that other people’s might.

Oh yes. My current car is very calm and understanding, but my old car definitely required proper love and care, and just the right ritualistic button pushing to work.

AND we’re helping the squirrels out! Do not forget all the poor squirrels who would otherwise have to work and slave to get to the acorn.

well, I don’t have your organizational systems, so mostly I’m good with going along with my bookshelves whims. Except the tall one, because it’s the only one that can have double-stacked paperbacks, so I deny it’s desires in favor of my own bookological needs.

But if you think about it, it could help organization: If I need Child ballads (which I did last night, long story) I know its on the dignified bookshelf. Same for books that are the height of the other bookshelf, and if I know the book I need fits none of these categories, well it must be the happy-go-lucky shelf!