Coming up for air after reading so many wonderful stories in the comments. Oh the humanity! The Schwinns! The matching halters and culottes! The gingham! The Pizza Hut Personal Pan Pizzas! Cherry Ames, RN! Trixie Belden! Being reminded of Christy by Catherine Marshall, which I haven’t thought of in dog’s years, and the image of the cover blasting instantly into my brain. (Must read that again NOW. Worrying that it won’t be as good as I remember it.)
I was unable to locate a photo of my youngster self that had the perfect storm of seersucker short set, smeared glasses, and pixie cut, so I went with this view circa age 8, right before I was stricken with with myopia. This shows a very fresh pixie; maybe my mom had trimmed my bangs herself, seeing as how the photographer was coming. (Getting picture taken in our living room by a travelling photographer is another vivid childhood memory. He had a portable screen he put up behind us. Either my brother or my sister could be relied upon to cry; I sat stoically, bangs (what was left of them) facing forward. The burden of Oldestness.) I found photos of Keds, miscellaneous unflattering eyewear, a hot pink maxi skirt I sewed myself –but no seersucker, no appliqued fruit. From my sisters in the comments, I know that these short sets existed. I know I wore them. I got nothing to prove here.
I would like to announce the winners of our contest, who will receive signed copies of our new book when it comes out in September.
Random-draw winners are:
Someone who signed “~S” (sulitk)
I should know by now that there will always be too many good stories to pick just 2, but I had to, so I did. (Well, OK, I picked 3.) Story winners are:
Erica who was not allowed to check out The Life and Times of Albert Einstein at the library (why yes, she was a giant geek), because she was a child and it was an adult book. Nor was Erica’s mother allowed to check it out for her at the library, but all was saved by the bookmobile, which struck a blow for freedom.
Pat (“I could never do a cartwheel, and I blame the bookmobile.”)
Tracy, whose mom drove the bookmobile, and in fact WAS the bookmobile.
Winners please email your mailing address to bigbonegal AT hotmail DOT com.
Thanks so much to everyone who entered. I loved the stories of bookmobiles and libraries. And all those mean librarians of yore–surely they helped mold character. Perhaps they will get their just reward at that big bookmobile in the sky, where you cannot even think about checking out a Harlequin Romance for the first 10,000 years. I cannot believe the similarity of the books that so many read as children, regardless of generation or location, or the wide variety of books people are reading now. It’s given me all sorts of additions to my to-read list. Feel free to dip into the comments and find something good to curl up with on the rollaway, everyone.
(Which reminds me of a beloved college professor, whose 1950s high school yearbook caption said his ambition was to “curl up with a good book.” I heard the story from his wife of many decades. The former Miss Book.)
And a special thank you to Sharon for leading me to this YouTube, which should be called Disco Bookmobile.
I’m off to Omaha, where I may find evidence of seersucker, or at least culottes. My summer wardrobe could use some pepping up; I’m thinking: scooter skirt. I rocked the scooter skirt.