A Rainy Day and Christmas Books

It’s raining, it’s pouring ~~ a perfect day to get things done for the holidays. Such as putting up our new tree. The operative word there is ‘new’ — we broke down and bought an artificial tree – I know, it was hard for me too. But, given our drought and fires, live trees are scarce and wildly expensive out here. We only need a small tree to fit into on bay window seat, so we decided to go check out Balsam Hill’s new factory outlet just south of the city.

I’ll show you more, once we put up the new tree ~~ but not today.

I also have presents to wrap and pack for shipping ~~ but not today.

There’s cookie baking to do for friends and family ~~ but not today.

What is happening today? Wait for it – yes, getting out my collection of Christmas books. Lest you think I won the lottery (I did not), I’ve been collecting Christmas books for years, a tradition inspired by my book barmy mother.

I put them out to display around my reading nook. Most chosen for their beautiful covers – so facing up of course. And there these books will remain until the last whispers of the holiday season are over.

Today I am lovingly going through them, re-familiarizing myself with each one, and deciding which I will read, re-read, or just pleasantly browse through. What to choose, what to select?

There’s holiday murders and mysteries – always fun.

Years ago, there was a holiday book group meeting with wine tasting at a local bookstore – it was great fun, but somehow these lovelies came home with me.

I could go veddy, veddy British for this Christmas…

Or perhaps one of these?

This next one is definitely for Christmas Eve – I’ve have this beautiful book for several years, but only dipped in and out of it. This year, I want to read it cover to cover.

Every December an envelope bearing a stamp from the North Pole would arrive for J.R.R. Tolkien’s children. Inside would be a letter in a strange, spidery handwriting and a hand-colored drawing. This book contains all the letters J.R.R. Tolkien wrote to his children in the guise of Father Christmas from 1920 through 1943.

A new arrival. A rare find on e-bay, a collection of Christmas stories by Bess Streeter Aldrich, who was one of Nebraska’s most widely read and enjoyed authors. Her writing career spanned forty-some years, in which she wrote largely autobiographically, about living in the Midwest. This is an older hardback with the original illustrations, definitely well read, and with no spine but I’m quite pleased to have it.

I must confess, there is yet one more — still to arrive. I was shopping on Thrift Books (check them out as a good alternative to the big A) for Christmas gifts and saw this come up. I once had a copy, but must have lent it to someone or gave it away in a fit of clearing out. What was I thinking? I must have “one of the best Christmas mysteries ever written”, according to Martin Edwards, a well know British crime fiction critic.

Well that sums up my Christmas books from my shelves.

But, wait there’s more – remember, I have a Kindle and I haven’t shared my digital Christmas books, neatly arranged in their own Christmas collection, where I can browse the covers and see what else I can add to my holiday reading list.

Meanwhile, as I’ve been messing around with my books, Husband baked a galette made from bruised apples scavenged from our farmer’s market just a few blocks away. We go in the morning, but then he sometimes goes back as the market closes down and gets great bargains. These apples were free.

Someone has to economize after the money spent on books.