The other day I went looking for a book I needed to refer to, but it wasn't there. I'm quasi-organized about my books. For example, UFOs in one case, witchcraft in another, science fiction in a third, with plenty of overlap based on years purchased.
The book I needed should have been on the second shelf, right siden of the fourth bookcase I'd acquired and located in the spare room.
I looked twice through the whole case and then looked at other shelves in other bookcases.
I needed to do some straightening as the case devoted largely to cookbooks was a glorious mess. I decided to fix up four of the five bookcases yesterday. The fifth only requires re-shelving and will have its moment another time.
I found the book I needed nowhere near where it ought to have been, another one above it it I can also use, several books I forgot I had, several more that needed reading, and best of all I found the guitar pick I'd lost two years ago.
I am grateful for the chance to go through my books and hold them and read the covers and wipe off the dust that accumulates when a books sits and is not actively loved.
It was work, yes, but it was good work and if I hadn't done it then I would not have moved the books on the shelf near where I keep the guitar stuff and therefore I'd not have been reunited with my favourite yellow pick.
It was a great day.