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I was planning, while recently on vacation in my hometown, to visit my favorite college library. I figured surrounding myself with all of those lovely books in such gorgeous spaces would do me a world of good during a very difficult week. I also wanted to try to find that elusive perfect shot for the blog header.

As it turned out, my sister planned to spend a few days camped out in Dinand to get some work done. So I was able to run around with my camera while she packed up her things.

 Isn’t that the perfect reading nook? Dinand is full of them. Secret little hidey-holes, study corrals, desks in tiny closets, arm chairs tucked under staircases, even secret staircases that appear out of no where…

On this trip I found a book elevator that I never knew existed. If I had, I surely would have tried to cram myself (or, um, possibly another, tinier friend) into it to see if it would work. Why experiment on books when you could try first with a person? Just in case it does work, like.

 How gloriously and fantastically old-fashioned does that look?! I think moving books around would be ever so much more romantic with a book elevator like that than it would with any other means.

Right around the corner from the book elevator, we found carts each full of work by a single author. I think my sisters and I all gasped over a different cart, dreaming of running with it straight out the library doors and into a get-away car. (Rhi, you go start the car; I’ll grab your cart, too.)

Perhaps my favorite picture I took was of the gorgeous front wall in the main reading room. I wonder what the purpose is of that tiny little balcony. Was it ever in use? For what purpose? or is it perhaps an architectural detail for pretty’s sake only?

 And then, of course, there were the books. Books, books, shelves, and more books. Oh, a girl could faint from such happy sights.

Ahhh. Just looking at the pictures I took and remembering dashing around Dinand that afternoon makes me smile and calms me down. Imagine the restorative powers I’d have at hand if I lived close enough to visit regularly?