nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Books

I finished the book I was reading today (Industrial Magic) and went looking through my bookshelves for something I'd either read a very long time ago, an old favorite or one I hadn't cracked yet (something that rarely happens here).
I have a multitude of bookshelves and books, some passed on to me by my Grams before and after she died, some inherited from my mother's mother when she died, some picked up willy nilly and some dearly loved and treasured.
There's something about books, just the shape and texture and even the smell, that I love. Old books are even better. There's such...history in them.
Take, for instance, the first three I opened. One was Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott. Inscribed inside the front cover in childish print is my maternal grandmother's maiden name. A note was made below that she'd received the book from her teacher on Dec. 25th, 1943. Some of the pages are dog-eared and worn, and I can see that this was a book she loved and read many times. My fingers are where hers have been, my eyes wander the same pages.
Book #2 was Five Little Peppers Grown Up by Margaret Sidney. This book was in my Grams' shelves and it was one of the first books I read every Summer I visited with her. It's a beautifully bound book, set in rich tones that have mellowed even further over the years. I love the way it feels in my hands and the memories it brings back to me.
Book #3 is an old Nancy Drew mystery, The Clue in the Diary by Carolyn Keene. It's also from my maternal grandmother and was published in 1932. I, like most girls of my time, loved the Nancy Drew books. I think most of us at some point or another wanted to be the girl sleuth. The neat part about this particular book is that the title page holds a small, ornate section that reads "This book, while produced under wartime conditions, in full compliance with government regulations for the conservation of paper and other essential materials, is COMPLETE AND UNABRIDGED."
There's history even in the production of some of these books. I wonder about others who have read them, wonder if they loved them as much as I do, wonder if my children's children will carry on my reverence.
Coming from a family that doesn't believe much in legacies or roots, I'm holding these dear.
Happy Friday.
N.

8:16 p.m. - 2006-06-16

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