Over the years, I have lost quite a few books. By “lost”, I mean misplaced or forgotten or just disappeared.
I begin my sad account with the tale of my lost Roald Dahl books (Diligent readers may recall — I almost didn’t — that I wrote a post mentioning Roald Dahl last year). I remember owning The Witches; Danny, the Champion of the World; The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More; Esio Trot; and Fantastic Mr. Fox (which has been turned into a movie I will refuse to watch). I read all of Dahl’s children’s stories — except perhaps one. I loved them dearly. Yet, I realized one day that I no longer had them. Quel horreur! I was convinced they were hidden away in some corner of the attic (I find this idea of old, cherished artifacts being kept away in an attic very romantic), but it was not so. As I mentioned in that previous post, Rald Dahl’s stories are definitely going to be something my children read.
(I have been saying that a lot — when I have children they will definitely read that or watch this. On the list so far: the Harry Potter series, all the works of Dr. Seuss, Scooby Doo, Disney animated movies, everything by Pixar…) (more…)
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