A Year in Books/Day 205: Four Little Blossoms at Oak Hill School

  • Title: Four Little Blossoms at Oak Hill School
  • Author: “Mabel C. Hawley”
  • Year Published: 1920 (The Saalfield Publishing Company)
  • Year Purchased: Circa 1920
  • Source: My Grandma
  • About: When this book was published nearly a century ago, it wouldn’t have been considered naive or innocent, but a reflection of mainstream normalcy: what childhood was, or aspired to be. As such, the plot isn’t important. All you need to know is in the characters’ names: Bobby, Meg, Dot and….Twaddles. The Blossoms are siblings, and range in age from 7 to 4 (Dot and Twaddles, you see, are twins). Nothing much happens, just the usual sweet or sly childhood shenanigans one associates with a bygone era. The Four Little Blossoms’  benign adventures lasted for seven books. Published between 1920-1930, they were part of the Stratemeyer Syndicate assembly line. Other, more famous series from Stratemeyer include the Bobbsey Twins, Hardy Boys Mystery Stories, Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, and Dana Girls Mystery Stories.
  • Motivation: This unimportant little book has, by extreme happenstance, been in the family for over ninety years, having been owned or read by four generations. Who knew that it would hang around so long? I wonder if this is the orphan of a once complete set, or if this is the only Four Little Blossoms book my forebears bought?
  • Times Read: Dozens? As one of the first “real” chapter books I owned, at 3 or 4, I used it to move my skills beyond the Little Golden Books stage.
  • Random Excerpt/Pages 10 and 11: “The Blossoms lived in the pretty town of Oak Hill, and they knew nearly every one. Indeed the children had never been away from Oak Hill till the visit they had made to their Aunt Polly, about which you may have read in the book called “Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm.” They had spent the summer with Aunt Polly, and had made many new friends and learned a great deal about animals. Meg, especially, loved all dumb creatures. And now that you are acquainted with the four little Blossoms, we must get back to that chimney.”
  • Happiness Scale: 10, because it helped me become quite a fine reader

Daily Diversion #39: Beating Time Along the Edge of Thought*

When I cannot write, I look up. Craned neck, closed eyes. I swivel my creaking chair, and open them.

Meditative whir and whirl

Meditative whir and whirl

Rendered in black-and-white, like rubbed-away ink on a faded page.

*“…beating time along the edge of thought.”-Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

A Reading List a Mile Long: Bas Bleu Autumn 2012 Edition

The temperature remains high, at least where I live, but autumn is sneaking around the corner. Although I find scant joy in the companions of cold weather-believing that you should visit ice and snow if the fancy strikes, and not the other way around-there are some compensations that arrive with this particular changing of the seasons, among them: hot mulled cider, hot chocolate, gingerbread cake, holiday cookies, ice skating, scarves, boots, crackling fires, the ability to watch Miracle on 34th Street ten times without being judged (too harshly), silly parades, a changing landscape and, of course, the built-in excuse to hunker down and read as many books as possible. That last one is the best. The Autumn 2012 edition of Bas Bleu is crammed with enough delicious books and literary-related goodies to last the next two seasons. Check out my jumble bag of favourites below, complete with handy links. Continue reading

I’m Reading a Dirty Book (and, no, it’s not Fifty Shades of… Anything)

I’m reading a dirty book and, no, it’s not Fifty Shades of…Anything. It’s worse. I picked it up last week at the dollar store. During check-out I hid it in the middle of a pile of cleaning supplies, but the cashier wasn’t fooled: she gave me side eye. Owning it makes me blush. I would never, ever be seen in public with it under my arm or nose. We’re friends, though, right? Right? Okay, good. I’m a bit shy about this sensitive subject, so I am going to divulge my secret in a photograph. Deep breath. Here it is: Continue reading

A Bunch of Books I’m Glad I Didn’t Write

A bunch of books I’m glad I didn’t write, courtesy of AbeBooks.com’s Weird Book Room.

  1. The Art of Painting Animals on Rocks by Linn Wellford- I’m pretty sure my Aunt Lauree owned this book. She definitely painted animals on rocks. It was a strange time.
  2. How You Can Bowl Better Using Self-Hypnosis-File this under: things I will never do, two.
  3. Whose Bottom is This? A Lift-the-Flap Book-Very educational, no doubt.
  4. A Lust for Window Sills by Harry Mount-Wasn’t this featured on an episode of Taboo?
  5. All About Scabs by Genichiro Yagyu-Everything you ever wanted to know, in one handy volume.
  6. A Cow is Too Much Trouble in Los Angeles by Joseph Foster-Sometimes you just have to learn things the hard way.

Plus, two I wish I had:

  1. Boy George Fashion and Make-up Book by Wayne Winder-Why the hell not? This is still relevant, right?
  2. Liberace: Your Personal Fashion Consultant by Michael and Karan Feder-If you really want to shine. I would die happy if this book was on my resume.

 

Daily Diversion #38: The Gladdest Thing Under the Sun*

Although hundreds of trees spread across the distant horizon like ink blots, the park adjacent to my flat is the only true green spot in this industrial neighborhood.

Pretty flowers near the old workhouse wall that dissects my neighborhood.

Pretty flowers and plants near the old workhouse wall that dissects my neighborhood.

I’m partial to the rust and dust and accumulated dirt, the graffiti and old buildings that litter the CW. The flowers are bright and perky, but they’ll die in service to the coming season. I like the good bones of the stone and brick structures, even if the edges are crumbly. They last, even if they are a bit shabby.

*I will be the gladdest thing/Under the sun!/I will touch a hundred flowers/And not pick one”-Edna St. Vincent Millay, Afternoon on a Hill