Once a Bibliophile…

Once a Bibliophile…

Some of the oldest items from my childhood are the books my mother saved. They were my favorites, as evidenced by how worn out they are. I didn’t care what they looked like. I just loved them. By the time I was about two, I had memorized them anyway, so it didn’t matter if they were readable or not.

The oldest one I still have is a cloth book of Mother Goose Rhymes.

The edges are shredded, and loose strings hang off it. Mom wrote inside: From Daddy – March 1947.” I would have been seven months old.

I found a picture online of what it looked like before I destroyed it from loving it so much.

I contained “Baa, baa, Black Sheep,” “Little Bo Peep,” and “Jack and Jill,” among others. I knew them by heart.

I also had an extensive collection of Little Golden Books. I remember titles like “Scuffy the Tugboat,” “The Poky Little Puppy,” and “Tootle.” He was a train.

My favorite was the collection of poetry.

Not only is the cover nearly obliterated, but some of the inside pages are also torn out. (I suspect my brother may have had something to do with this.) This one says: from Aunt Evie and Uncle Ted Christmas 1947.

This is what the original cover looked like. In addition to many others, it contained my favorite: Robert Louis Stevenson’s “The Swing.” I always loved the description of soaring so high. It was how I felt on a swing.

My grandfather read to me nearly every day of my life. When I was born, my parents lived in the “little house” behind my grandparents’ “big house.” My grandfather started it as a separate bedroom for his father. Eventually Great-grandpa moved to a nursing home, and Dad and Grandpa added a large, sunny kitchen to the living room/bedroom (with a Murphy bed) and half bath. It had only a sink and toilet. My parents had to go to the “big house” to shower or bathe.

My grandfather took the bus to work. When he came home, he walked by the “big house” and tapped on the breakfast room window so my grandmother knew he was home. Then, he came back to the “little house.”

When I was tiny, he held me and talked to me. He walked me around both of the houses pointing out everything he saw. “Picture.” “Book.” (Of course.) “Table.” “Chair.” By the time I was a year old, I had a fifty-two-word vocabulary. My mother didn’t think anyone would believe her, so she wrote all of them down in my baby book as I learned each one.

By the time I was about six months old, he started to read to me. Before long, I had a whole dresser drawer filled with Little Golden Books. Of course, I had my favorites.

Grandpa would read one. Then I would hop off his lap and get another. When he finished, he said it was time for him to go back to the “big house” to eat.

“Just one more, Grandpa.” Yep, I begged. And it worked. I might get him to read another one or two before he finally left for dinner.

When I was sixteen-months old, I memorized “A Visit from St. Nicholas.” You probably know it as “’Twas the Night Before Christmas.” I always insisted on the original title.

My grandparents had friends over for a party, and Grandpa stood me on the dining room table (probably to Grandma’s consternation), and I recited the whole thing. Can you say “precocious”?

I see the current commercials advising parents to talk, read, and sing to their babies. In my case, I can say it worked.

Once a bibliophile, always a bibliophile.

Did you have a favorite book as a child?

The Cookbooks

I have been fortunate to have been involved in the publication of three cookbooks through the years.

The first was in 1996 when Community Presbyterian Church of San Juan Capistrano decided to collect members’ favorite recipes as a fundraiser for the Friends of Music. The result was The Gift of Christmas.

My friend, Anne Larson and I copied, standardized, and edited the recipes, and then Larry did the layout in a now-obsolete publishing program. The completed book was printed at a local copy shop and spiral bound. Margaret Stephenson, whose idea this was, designed the cover. This book contained not only some of my recipes, but also those of my mother, grandmother, and mother-in-love. Many of them were favorites at church dinners and potlucks.

In 2015, friends asked if we had any copies. We re-published it in both Kindle and print forms as a fundraiser for the church preschool and kindergarten. It is available on Amazon and other online sellers as well as through the church office.

The second cookbook came about when my friend and fellow author, Ilene Schneider, suggested creating a cookbook of the recipes featured in our books published by Oak Tree Press. The book included author photos and information about our books.

It languished for a couple of years due to illness of the publisher. We decided it was time to publish it. Another Oak Tree author, Mary Montague Sikes, allowed us to use her beautiful artwork for the cover, and Recipes by the Book: Oak Tree Authors Cook became a reality. It is also available in a full-color edition. This one is also available as an ebook and in print.

The most recent one I have been involved with is the resurrection of Marilyn Meredith’s Cooking for a Big Family and Large Groups.

This one had been published so long ago, even Marilyn had forgotten about it. I ran across an old used copy on Amazon, or I wouldn’t have known about it. The only copy she had was a three-hole punched copy typed on a typewriter.

I scanned the old one and converted to an electronic file, then edited and formatted it for publication. The cover is a photo of our dining room table.

This has been a surprise hit! For a couple of months, it was Marilyn’s bestselling book!

Larry produced the covers for all of these.

Now all three will live on in perpetuity. Makes me feel really good.

If you like to cook, check them out!

Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day, and I am once again reminded of the mothers in my life.

First, of course, is my mother, Vera Methven Lund Mansfield. She didn’t have it easy. Widowed at age 36, she was left to raise my brother and me as a single parent, at a time when there were few single parents. She had no job skills and was totally unprepared for this role, but she did it. And I miss her.

When I married, the week after my nineteenth birthday, I was blessed with my mother-in-love, Letha Collins. She always wanted a daughter, and I was. I never received a birthday card that said anything except “To Our Daughter.” She introduced me as her daughter, and occasionally confused people. She was my friend and as loving a mother as anyone could ask for. And I miss her.

Growing up, we also had Wilma Sehnert in our lives. Mom had to work, but Wilma was always there for us. She was the one we went to when we had problems. She showed her love for us in so many ways. It wasn’t until we were grown that we realized what a huge role she had played. I miss her.

I had many other women who served in mother roles during my lifetime. All of them left no doubt they loved me. I am grateful for them. And I miss them.

Of course, I need to mention Kimberly, who made me a mother. I was blessed with an independent daughter who often tried my patience, but who has always been her own person. Along the way, she became one of my best friends. She now lives in Texas, and I miss her.

On Mother’s Day this year, I honor all of them and all of you who serve as mothers to the children in your lives. I have been blessed with other children from Japan and Spain who are part of our family and are in my heart. They all live at a distance, and I miss them, too.

Honor your mothers tomorrow and every day. They deserve it.