My little cabin is lined where possible with bookshelves, unfortunately only one of which has glazed doors. They are all tightly packed. I need more house for more walls for more bookshelves.
If I haven’t disturbed a section of the open shelves for a while, it often happens that when I go to extract a book, it resists.
More determined tugging brings forth not only the book but a shower of dried mud and small spiders – or perhaps fat grubs.
For wasps like books too. They sandwich the tops together with a mud honeycomb of egg chambers, sealing within each a stunned spider for the larvae to eat when they hatch.
Clever, yes, but pretty disgusting for the would-be reader.