Yesterday, during my lunch break from being a supermodel trophy wife, I watched a TV show on HGTV that featured homes that formerly had other purposes in their past life such as a half-way house, church, and library. The owner of the house that was a former library boasted that her home still smelled like books. I understood her feelings. Forget my creme brulee candle, I would much rather have my home reek of the saltiness of a great novel.
The ironic thing about my fetish for books is that if you asked KTG or Dude, they would testify that I spent very little time in school with my nose stuck into a book. Oh well, some people are late bloomers.