Last weekend, I took C and H down to my dad’s house so that we were out of the way while M and his dad decorated our lounge and dining room (which looks lovely, by the way – they worked VERY hard!).
Anyway, prior to this visit I had stumbled across a conversation that @aitcheldee and @maybeswabey were having on Twitter about the Grandmother Lucy books (written by Joyce Wood and illustrated by Frank Francis, during which a huge cloud (silver lined – it was a good sort of a cloud) of nostalgia swept over me and settled there comfortably. I had LOVED these books. Loved, loved, loved them. I had to have them again. And, thanks to @aitcheldee’s dad’s advice, I managed to find a copy of ‘Grandmother Lucy And Her Hats’
and ‘Grandmother Lucy Goes For A Picnic’
on the German Amazon site. This was no mean feat, considering I only studied French and Spanish at school and have never encountered any occasion other than this in which I’d had to speak a single word of German. I rewarded myself with a VERY large bowl of blackberry ice-cream, made by C 🙂
Back to the books. I had recounted the above story to Dad, adding in the fact that I wouldn’t have had to undertake this European internet search if all my childhood books hadn’t been eaten by squirrels. He laughed and told me that I must be mistaken, as all my books were safely in boxes in his neatly boarded loft (he’s very proud of his loft). I laughed and told him he must be thinking of something else, as clearly I wouldn’t have put myself through the trauma, grieving process and eventual grudging acceptance of the loss of something so important for no actual reason. Apparently I had. What a monumental doofus I am!
So, top on my list of things to complete last weekend was a big recon mission into Dad’s loft to discover what was there. Until I saw the books with my own eyes, I couldn’t allow myself to actually believe that they were there. But there indeed they were. I found both my Grandmother Lucy books (and now plan to frame the extra copies that have arrived from Germany). I found my Malory Towers books, dog-eared and creased. I found countless board books that were given to me by my cousins on my first birthday. All this was only the tip of the iceberg and I sobbed and screamed with delight in equal measure as each box was opened. C was particularly excited to see my range of Topsy and Tim books (he’s very keen on them at the moment and I earned some serious mummy cool points when he realised I’d read them as a child as well).
I started tweeting pictures of some of my finds and discovered that, even quite late on a Friday night, there were many kindred spirits out there who were nearly as thrilled as I was at some of the treasures I was unearthing.
So, I hesitate to commit to doing anything regular with this blog as I’m just so poor at updating it, but I really want to do a series of posts detailing some of the gorgeous books I found last weekend. I’ve written before about how strongly my childhood, reading and my (fingers crossed) future career are all closely linked and last weekend’s exploits reminded me again just how much reading has always been a part of my life and how I’d like to help others have that as well. In the few months since I’ve been blogging, I think I’ve made it quite clear that I was unsure of what direction the blog would take and I suppose I’m still a little hazy. However, in addition to updates on how my Story Seekers idea is taking shape, I know now I’d also like to do this series of posts on my childhood books, as well as a series about the story sacks I’ve just finished for C’s pre-school (a task which completely took over my life, hence the lack of action on here for nearly a month).
Before I go, I’d like to share a few photos that were up in the loft in some other boxes (I was also searching for photos of Mum to share with the boys):