The Love of Ladybird Books

 

The first books I ever remember collecting were the Ladybird Well-loved Tales series. I saw them for the first time when I started Infants school and immediately fell in love with them. I also found that if you were very good in school then you could be chosen to sit outside the classroom of an afternoon and read them. I immediately became one of the best behaved children in the class just to get a chance to sit in the corridor to read and reread those lovely books.

I could tell you the tale of Chicken Licken, The Gingerbread Boy and The Three Billy Goats Gruff by heart pretty soon . I obviously must have pestered my Mum because she began to take me to Woolworths on the last Friday of each month to buy a new Ladybird book. 

The first two I remember buying were Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty. I read them over and over and oh how I wanted to have the witch's vegetable garden - minus the witch of course. My lovely Mum would take me for my next book come rain or shine, even after the horror of Rumplestiltskin. The drawing of that character gave me nightmares and I still get edgy when I open that book now. I hid it at the bottom of my toy box and it didn't come out again until I was a big, brave girl of seven. he still made me uneasy but by then I was a completionist and had to read them all through in order, afraid or not.

My favourite of all the Ladybird books were Cinderella and The Princess and the Pea. They had more magic for me than all the other books put together. Of course I thought the blue dress Cinderella wore to the second ball was the best and her wedding dress was so boring - white, why have white for weddings? I wanted colour and bows. (In case you're wondering my views changed as I grew up and I married in ivory, no bows).

I would read those two books over and over in bed at night, sometimes by my sister's torchlight because I should have been asleep. Nothing would keep me from my beloved Ladybird books.

When I moved across the road to Junior school, oh joy of joys, there were more Ladybird books to discover. Mrs Brown my lovely teacher had a selection of them on her nature table. I found that if you offered to tidy at playtime you got to stay and read the Ladybird nature books when you were done. I tidied as often as I could just to get to those books. Woolworths didn't have them and in those days we didn't have a bookshop in our village.

I moved into second year Juniors and my class was back in the Infants dining room. I had a teacher who wasn't very kind and it was the worst year of my time in primary school. But she did have a whole bookcase filled with Ladybird History books - yes there were more of them. I learned so much history that year from those ladybird books. In a period of respite from the not too nice teacher we had a student who on realising how I devoured the Ladybird books introduced me to the science section and even more nature books. She might as well have given me the Crown Jewels.

It was at this time that I found out about Pierre and Marie Curie and radium and would come home telling my parents all about their wonderful discoveries. I didn't talk much about what I did at school but I did talk a lot about all  that I had learned from Ladybird books in quiet time.

As I moved into third year Juniors I decided that I was too big for these books and they were all given away to a friend of my mothers who had a younger child. That is something I regretted when my daughter was born and I wanted to introduce her to the delights of Well Loved Tales. To my horror, when I got to the bookshop, I found that they had been updated and no longer had the beautiful oil painting pictures I loved and remembered. I did manage to build up a collection of them eventually with trips to Hay on Wye and many second hand shops, all apart from Cinderella which I couldn't track down anywhere so my daughter missed that delight as a child. A few years ago Ladybird brought out a special edition and I saw it in Waterstones and completed my set.

Every so often one of the Ladybird books I adored comes to mind and the family has to listen to me going on about how wonderful it was.

That is how I came to have a collection of the Seasons books again. After hearing me sing their praises over and over, my lovely husband tracked them down and bought them for me. I still get them out as each season changes and read them over again because once you have loved Ladybird books you always love Ladybird books. I still collect them and I still get excited when I find one I remember from my childhood. I think it was Ladybird that made me a reader.

Burnt Embers

                                                Burnt embers in the morning sky
                                                The ashes of past mistakes
                                                Long cluttering her consciousness
                                                Blown on autumn winds
                                                Clearing her mind for future plans

                                                The fire begins to breathe again
                                                Burning over the rooftops
                                                Chasing the geese, not clipping wings
                                                Illuminating her darkened world
                                                Adding red and gold to monochrome

                                               With sudden hope she lifts her eyes
                                                As colour fills her soul
                                                Renewing within a lust for life
                                                She opens wide the door
                                                And the black dog leaves home

On The Importance of Niceness

One of the first things my mother ever told me was to 'be nice' and to 'play nice'. I didn't appreciate the importance of the life lesson she was teaching me at the time. My mother had many phrases to help prepare me for the world - sometimes, I'm ashamed to say, I forget some of them.

These days the word nice seems to be denigrated. Being nice is often seen as a sign of weakness and naivety. Believe me if you meet really nice people they are anything but. It takes a great deal of strength to be nice in this world, to not retaliate angrily when provoked - I try hard, but sometimes I fail. I always greatly admire those who can maintain their composure in the face of great provocation.

As a country I always thought that we were generally nice, polite and caring. Over recent years I have watched this vision collapse as I have watched politicians fight for the good of themselves, not their country. I have  watched powerful people manipulate and divide the population and some even encourage hatred and division. My country has changed from a place I loved to one I am often ashamed of.  The current political climate and newspapers encourage anger and I see so many people, who would have agreed to disagree, arguing vociferously. Sadly social media has given an extra voice to to this vitriol with people rising to bait and anger increasing.

So what can we do? My mother always told me to never retaliate with anger -'That's just lowering yourself to their level' Another favourite phrase of hers was 'Don't bear grudges, because while your sitting at home nursing your grudge, they're out dancing' Over the years I have seen the wisdom of her words. Whenever possible, when faced with an argumentative person who is not prepared to listen or debate, I walk away with my dignity intact. Indeed I am firmly of the opinion that when a person begins to yell, they have already lost the argument.

As I was leaving to start my first day at university I was quite anxious. My mother's advice was 'Just be kind' then she followed me out to the hall and added 'But don't let anyone walk over you!' Wise words from a wise woman. She taught me to stand up for myself too but in an assertive, not an aggressive manner. 'You can say no nicely Janet' As the saying goes 'it costs nothing to be nice' I try to be so whenever I can and I usually find that people are invariably nice in return. Over the years I have met a lot of very nice people and, from each of them I have learned a little more about the kind of person I would like to be, I'm not there yet. I hope I do get there one day. I try hard because I want my mother to look down and be proud of me.

If we all try hard to be a little kinder and a little nicer we can change the world for the better. Try random acts of kindness, a nice word or a compliment to brighten someone's day and don't rise to anger bait or get drawn into other people's aggressive worlds, Every time you refuse to retaliate there is a little less anger in the world - and you did that.

Shall we all make an agreement to try being a little nicer, a little kinder and a little more understanding? Each time we do we make this world a better place.

Oh and remember the words of the song 'Those hardest to love need it the most' - you could make a real difference in someone's life.

Above all - just play nice.

We don't always like the same books and that is just fine

Reading, I have always found to be a very personal thing. We each have our favourite authors and genres. Some of us stick to those and rarely branch outside their comfort zones, others read a whole variety of books and styles, some prefer novels, some non fiction books, others choose graphic novels. All are fine.I remember reading somewhere that if you don't like to read then you just haven't found the right book. I have to agree. Books are not a one size fits all.

People who do not like tomato sauce and wouldn't eat lasagne or bolognese would never dream of telling you to do the same and yet people will tell you never to read a book because they hated it. There are not many books that I do not finish but there have been a few - most recently Truman Capote's In Cold Blood. I had been looking forward to it for so long because I had read so many wonderful reviews of it and it was recommended by many people who's opinions I trust. Sadly I just could not get along with the story at all and eventually gave up. This doesn't mean that it was a poor book or that it was badly written, neither are true. It just was not for me and that is fine. I know how much it is valued but life is too short to struggle along with something you are not enjoying.

After discarding the Capote I started an Elizabeth Gaskill which I absolutely loved - but of course I would as I adore Victorian Literature. I am sure that some of you would never choose a piece from that period because it is not your genre of choice. I would think you are missing out but, as I have said before, it is each to his own. I struggle with a lot of Science Fiction novels and really would not choose one specifically had it not been recommended by a friend. Again, this is no reflection on the work, it is just my personal preference. Through recommendations I have branched out to H G Wells, John Wyndham and one Philip K Dick and loved them all so maybe there is hope for me as a Science Fiction reader after all.

When I read a book I enjoy I will say how much I loved it and recommend it, I cannot guarantee that those who choose to read it after me will do so too, and I am sorry if you do not, but I like to share my enthusiasms. If I really do not enjoy a book I will either not comment at all or simply say that I struggled a little or that it was not for me. I try not to give negative reviews because 1 know that we are all different and I would not like to put someone off a book they may enjoy just because I did not. I also am fully aware that I have never written a book and do not have the skill or time to do so and wouldn't give a damning review to someone who has. I will always call out prejudice but other than that I will just not recommend.

The only other thing I will say about reading is not to be put off what you enjoy because someone else does not think that it is good enough. What you enjoy is what you enjoy and that is always good enough. If you like reading books for younger readers that is fine, if you prefer comic books that is also fine. I struggle with deep philosophy books and ancient literature but I have a friend who adores them.

So the message in today's blog is to find what you enjoy reading, read it and don't let anyone put you off. If you want to branch out sometimes do so but do it because you want to, not because you have been forced to. Reading is a gift to enjoy and I do hope that you enjoy it.

The Joy of Children's Literature

Children's Literature is a genre that is frequently overlooked by adults setting reading lists and goals. As we mature we put aside childish things and move on to what we consider 'greater' works. This is such a pity because, in doing this, we deprive ourselves of so much wonderful literature.

As a child I read and enjoyed many children's classics. Some I read to myself, others were read to me. All left wonderful memories and helped shape the reader I am today. The joy of those books never left me and when I had children of my own I bought new copies of those I'd given away and enjoyed the stories all over again. We found books that I had missed as a child and some new ones too. I looked forward to bedtime story time as much as my children. We read the What Katy Did books, the Shoe books, My Naughty Little Sister, Harry Potter, Wilma Tenderfoot. We laughed, we cried and we loved every minute.

As our children grew and were ready to move to secondary school they had progressed from having stories read at bedtime and were happier reading to themselves. Oh how I still miss those bedtime stories.

In recent years we have cleared shelves and found books that my children read that I missed. Two years ago I read Polyanna for the first time, what a lovely, positive story. Last year my daughter recommended I Capture The Castle by Dodie Smith, a book that she had read in Y4.  I decided to give it a go. I absolutely loved it and remembered how it felt to be a teenager. It was at this point that I decided to ask people for recommendations of children's books. I was given so many and am gradually working my way through them. I was introduced to Erich Kastner by a friend in Germany and read The Flying Classroom, a delightful book, filled with the kindness and positivity I love. Next month I hope to read Daddy Long Legs by Jean Webster. I have a very long list now and so this year I have decided to include one children's book a month in my reading list - some new, some old favourites.

One of the suggestions in my Hygge list is to 'read a favourite book from childhood' I did that in November and December with The Hundred and One Dalmations and A Christmas Carol. There is something very comforting about reading a story from back in your youth,. It transports you back to the happy, secure place where you first read the story and, despite gloomy news on tv and in newspapers, it gives you a tremendous feeling of well being.

Sadly, as a teacher, I would sometimes hear children being told by parents that they were 'too big' for some stories. This always made me feel sad. I would tell them that you are never too big for any children's story and be it a younger age book or a comic, as long as they were reading and enjoying it, that was all that mattered.

And what of those who say that now we are adults we shouldn't read children's stories? Well, they are either reading the wrong children's stories or have been poisoned by a sceptical age that frowns on anything they consider to be immature. Personally I would recommend that you all try some children's fiction and make your world a little brighter. They are written for you too. As C S Lewis said 'A children's story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children's story in the slightest.' and he wrote some great children's stories. I know because I read them for the first time as an adult.

Now, make your world better and go find a really good children's book or, if you have any you think I should read, please let me know,

The year is growing old and I feel a little sad, but this year I have Hygge

This morning I was wakened by the sound of lots of geese flying over our house, a sure sign that autumn has arrived. I have known it was coming for weeks. I have felt it in the air, I have been able to smell it and I have seen it in the subtle changes in the leaves.

When I was young this was my favourite season. I loved the colours, I loved the feel of it as the cold air wrapped its arms around you and hugged you, I loved the smell of bonfires, but as I have grown older I find I like it less. Spring is my new favourite season, filled with promise and new life. To me autumn now makes the year feel like a friend in the twilight of their years who you know is approaching the end (Winter and another year gone). I think the problem is that I suffer with S.A.D. and as I have become older I have begun to associate Autumn with the approach of feeling bad.

This year I am even more determined to do battle with this condition. I always start to feel a little down as September approaches. I think that stems from when I was a teenager and the approach heralded the end of the wonderful summer holidays and the return to school. Now when the children go back to school I always get the urge to buy stationery and sweaters. This retail therapy cheers me for a while but then comes October with the dark nights and frequently gloomy days and I'm sad all over again.

This year I have decided to do battle with my S.A.D. and I am starting early. Today I got out my S.A.D. lamp. It's only August but it's gloomy and with a cold I can't quite beat I'm already a little out of sorts. I am also making plans to make this Autumn and winter a much happier time than usual. I may not beat it totally but I may make some difference. I have been researching Hygge - Danish secrets to happy living and am about to adopt Hygge myself.

So, what are my plans?

1   Fairy lights and candles around the house to give it a magical feel
2   Delighting in walks - I used to love walking the dog, there's no reason I can't walk on my own
3   Steaming mugs of tea, hot chocolate, chai lattes and a good book
4   Crunching dried leaves
5   Baking parkin, apple crumbles, cinnamon crunches
6   Knitting - I knitted through last winter and it helped
7   Warm bubble baths
8   Snuggly rugs for watching TV under
9   Baking bread
10 Reading a favourite book from childhood
11 Gathering leaves and twigs to make a nature collage
12 Cosying up with a favourite childhood film
13 Dressing the bed with new, brushed cotton linen
14 Getting comfy by the window and watching the birds outside
15 Taking an evening away from the TV and playing board games
16 Trying out a farmshop for breakfast or lunch
17 Wearing a warm jumper and leggings & treating myself to 20 minutes meditation
18 Lighting a scented candle
19 Doing some colouring in
20 Inviting family round for a roast dinner
21 Starting a gratitude journal in a beautiful, new notebook
22 Snuggling up in woolies - socks, jumpers, hats, scarfs

As you can see I have plenty planned. I shall let you know how it goes. I'm really hoping that Hygge, vitamin D and my S.A.D lamp will get me through this winter mostly smiling. So if you see me wandering about in the park picking up twigs or you come visit and the house looks like Christmas came early be indulgent and remember Hygge.

The Reader Who Was Stolen Away (A Fable)

Polly was born in 2004, on a sunny spring day. She was named Polly after her Mother's favourite story character Pollyanna who thought for herself and was always positive and cheerful.

Polly was born into a world of books. People of my generation see that as a world of magic - and for many years Polly's world was magical. First there were board books that you could touch and taste, then came simple story books with happy, fun characters and ones that told you that your parents would always love you no matter what. Every night Polly's parents would read to her, initially brightly coloured picture books and then gradually books with more and more words in them. Polly explored the world, she went on adventures, she laughed, cried and learned with friends she had made in books.

When Polly was 4 she started school. Her favourite time was when the teacher would gather her class together on the carpet and read to them. Polly would come home and tell her parents all that had happened in that day's lovely book. As she grew up she found there were more and more books and more and more adventures and lives she could explore.

Then, one day, something dreadful happened. A man with a heart of stone took over Polly's future. His world was cold and hard. He lived by figures and acquisitions. He didn't understand how books could be read just for pleasure. He thought that they should be broken up and separated into individual sentences and analysed. It was important for Polly to learn fronted adverbials and causal connectives. She must learn to recite poems by heart, not just enjoy the beauty of them. Polly still loved to be read to but gradually she stopped listening in school as the beautiful stories were dissected before her. She would look out of the window at the clouds and imagine she could travel to a world beyond them, filled with magical people and sweet shops. Polly began to get into trouble for not paying attention and then she thought that she was a bad girl for not concentrating.

She asked her parents to let her read for herself now that she was bigger. After all they just read stories and thought they were fun. Polly knew now that stories were to be broken down and analysed. That was how you really read. And all the books her parents bought her were wrong. She knew what books she was to read - she had a set list.

Gradually Polly came to realise that reading wasn't for her. She was 'no good' at it and neither were her friends. She became very good at repetition and regurgitating information but the adventurer with the imagination that would have changed the world was lost, crushed beneath a world of rules and regulations. Her mother watched that adventurer die and, as Polly went out into the world of work just the same as everyone else, her individuality stolen, she cried.