I spent time on the weekend packing, due to an upcoming move. Books take forever to pack up, don't they? I'm incapable of moving books from shelf to box in one smooth motion; instead I need to thumb through pages, or read a forward, or look at illustrations. I remember when I first read a title (or maybe why I didn't) and consider re-reading some. Time passes.
I dusted off and packed up a collection of little books, some miniature, a few chunky board books and tiny boxed sets. I haven't collected these, they're titles I've acquired because I liked the size, the way they fit in my hand or just because I liked the story. They sat on the top of a high bookcase, nestled between a pair of funky bookends with smallish versions of Mudge, Strega Nona, Max, Lilly, Wendell and others sitting about. Reminds me of a bookshop. There's the Nutshell Library, Peter Spier's Little Cats, Emily Mouse's Garden, I Like You, Good Night Little One, and one of my favorite books of all -- The Animal Family. I know I'll read that one again and again.