Why I'm here

So the plan is, pluck one dusty (mouldy) (unsightly) (ridiculous) volume from my madman's library each day and try to justify the purchase. Keep it or scrap it, for heaven's sake, but don't let the heaps grow any higher in our dollhouse-size condo.

Early candidates for the cull (off the top of my head and the top of my kitchen table): Dancer in Madrid (World War II spy memoir); The Collected Letters of Gertrude Bell, Volume 1 (Volume II missing of course; that's why it was at the book sale); and Dante's Divine Comedy adapted by Seymour Chwast (a classic comic-book with a big ugly remainder mark I failed to notice in the heat of purchase).