How sad is it that my one specifically requested Christmas present is a bookshelf? (It's arriving tomorrow; my kid sister absolutely rocks.)
... and does it mark me as hopeless that right now I'm craving three complete encyclopedia sets to fill it?
I'm drooling over the Annals of America, Collier's Junior Classics, and Childcraft: The How and Why library, all of which were books I grew up on. I actually have the 1968 printing of the Annals of America, missing only the first and last volumes and the introduction, but they've been in my brother's possession for the last three years, and he has no respect for books; the bindings are intact, but almost all of them have the blank first pages ripped or torn out, gods only know why.
My own set of World Book encyclopedias, thankfully, my father kept safe for me -- they're in almost perfect condition. Those I won when I was twelve, my first semester in an American school... I remember that we toted them home in three trips, box by box, because we lived about six blocks away and my parents hadn't bought a car yet. Of all the prizes I've won in competition of whatever kind, I think my parents were most proud of that one. They called all the neighbours over and made me show them my name on the inside cover of the first volume, over the next couple of days, and I was proud, but embarrassed too, and glad when they finally ran out of people to show it to. Then the books went on the shelves, and every time my brother or I would need to get one down, we'd get a lecture on what a treasure they were and how glad I'd be one day to pass them on to my own children if we took care of them. There's a lot in them now that's outdated -- like almost anything dealing with world geography, I'd imagine -- but I'm still looking forward to putting up my shelves and settling those books in my room again.
The other two encyclopedias are almost purely for my littles. Childcraft taught me what a Moebius strip is, introduced the concept of something multiplying exponentially... and Collier's gave me stories I'll never forget, and a longing for a fennec of my own, while they were at it. ;) Is it selfish or silly of me to want to wrap my kids up in the same fantasy worlds I escaped to so often? Childcraft and Enid Blyton? Flying and sugarloaves and samovars and fennecs and mixtures that are neither wholly solid not fully liquid and English boarding school stories and naughty pixies? Is it realistic to want them to see magic around every corner and lands of wonder lurking at the top of every tree -- but, most of all, inside every book? Is it even possible, in this day and age, to raise them that way and still succeed in raising practical, competent adults? I don't know, obviously. But I can hope.
A mathematician once decided
That a Moebius strip is one-sided!
You'll get quite a laugh
If you cut it in half,
For it stays in one piece when divided.
... and does it mark me as hopeless that right now I'm craving three complete encyclopedia sets to fill it?
I'm drooling over the Annals of America, Collier's Junior Classics, and Childcraft: The How and Why library, all of which were books I grew up on. I actually have the 1968 printing of the Annals of America, missing only the first and last volumes and the introduction, but they've been in my brother's possession for the last three years, and he has no respect for books; the bindings are intact, but almost all of them have the blank first pages ripped or torn out, gods only know why.
My own set of World Book encyclopedias, thankfully, my father kept safe for me -- they're in almost perfect condition. Those I won when I was twelve, my first semester in an American school... I remember that we toted them home in three trips, box by box, because we lived about six blocks away and my parents hadn't bought a car yet. Of all the prizes I've won in competition of whatever kind, I think my parents were most proud of that one. They called all the neighbours over and made me show them my name on the inside cover of the first volume, over the next couple of days, and I was proud, but embarrassed too, and glad when they finally ran out of people to show it to. Then the books went on the shelves, and every time my brother or I would need to get one down, we'd get a lecture on what a treasure they were and how glad I'd be one day to pass them on to my own children if we took care of them. There's a lot in them now that's outdated -- like almost anything dealing with world geography, I'd imagine -- but I'm still looking forward to putting up my shelves and settling those books in my room again.
The other two encyclopedias are almost purely for my littles. Childcraft taught me what a Moebius strip is, introduced the concept of something multiplying exponentially... and Collier's gave me stories I'll never forget, and a longing for a fennec of my own, while they were at it. ;) Is it selfish or silly of me to want to wrap my kids up in the same fantasy worlds I escaped to so often? Childcraft and Enid Blyton? Flying and sugarloaves and samovars and fennecs and mixtures that are neither wholly solid not fully liquid and English boarding school stories and naughty pixies? Is it realistic to want them to see magic around every corner and lands of wonder lurking at the top of every tree -- but, most of all, inside every book? Is it even possible, in this day and age, to raise them that way and still succeed in raising practical, competent adults? I don't know, obviously. But I can hope.
A mathematician once decided
That a Moebius strip is one-sided!
You'll get quite a laugh
If you cut it in half,
For it stays in one piece when divided.
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