Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Books, For Small Hands, Eyes

When I married David I inherited nine nieces and nephews, now there are ten of them under the age of ten and.  I have become the unavoidable cruel aunt who gives books for presents.  Because she doesn't think you need anymore plastic that can splinter and lodge in anyone's septum, because she doesn't believe in electronics for children and because she loves books more than most other things.  Because she is so so sad that the nieces are too old to get Miss Rumphius, the Lupine Lady and that no one ever bought it for them when they were small so that they would know that the greatest thing you can do is plant lupines and live near the sea, better if you can do it in Maine (this is a fact).   I have to keep a running list so I don't get Grandfather Twilight for the same child for two occasions in a row

Two of the nephews are turning four this summer and I think they need some books about the sea and the summer.  Maybe because I'm feeling deprived with no time at the sea, the boys are getting books of boats, and sand and water and old men who live by the sea and keep boats patched.  Books of water colours.

Burt Dow, Deep-Water Man By Robert McCloskey
Time of Wonder By Robert McCloskey
All the World By Liz Garton Scanlon

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