I'm laughing at myself right now because there's a book I want to consult, and I can't find it. I know it's here somewhere. Really. If it's not on the shelves of the room I'm working in, it must be on the shelves in the hallway.
Looking for it, I have found all manner of other books I didn't know I had. In my defense, a lot of these books belong to one of my now-adult children, who left them here because I have more bookshelf space. But there really is a glut of books. So many, and I can't find one.
Part of the problem is that the place was drastically re-arranged recently, and my helpers shuffled whatever semblance of order there was in the book collection. Still, if I had about half as many books it would be easier to find the useful ones. Fewer books could feel like more books, in a way. There's a lesson there, somewhere. And yes, the next home improvement project will be finding places that will take donated books.