My mother has always been a very smart woman.  She understood that should a bookstore be in my vicinity, my allowance didn’t stand a chance.  Growing up we moved a lot.  While my world was always changing, I embraced the things that remained stable, such as my books.  My poor parents moved boxes and boxes of stories around the world, most likely because it was easier than explaining logic to a teenager.  I’m pretty sure there was great rejoicing when I married and my husband and I bought a home with an attic.  My dad was first in line to help install a floor.  And when the boxes made one last move and arrived on my doorstep to be put in that attic, I began to understand the sacrifice my parents made throughout the years.  They must have spent a fortune shipping those books all over the place.  Those suckers weighed a ton!