I had read so many great things about Rob Ryan's book, and lets face it you couldn't move with out bumping in to it over this Christmas, so I felt it would be rude not to treat myself to a little present.
And I was not disappointed.
The paper cuts are beautiful and the story heart breaking.
But then what is there not to love about Rob Ryan?
While trawling through Amazon one night I found this amazing book.
Sara Fanelli's "Sometimes I think, sometimes I am"
The book is in five parts devils and angels, love, colour, mythology and the absurd.
Each illustration is based on a quote.
"Tell me where is fancy bred, or in the heart or in the head"
"To write a weepy poem try onion juice" Stephane Mallarme.
I keep on picking this book up and dipping in and out of it.
Each time I find something new, humorous and inspiring.
The Hippy discovered this book and knew I would love it.
Published in 1910 it tells the story of little Bobby who lives at the top of the hill and the adventure he has when his pram rolls away with him in it.
The slant of the book gives you the angle of the hill.
When we saw this book before Christmas it was bought and paid for and hidden away for the big day before either of the children could blink or braw breath.
We both remembered it so well from our own childhoods.
It comes with a cd which has the best music on it for you to read along to.
I really really love illustrations in children's books from the late 1960's and early 1970's.
Well actually I think I just love illustrations in children's books.
Which brings me to this final book in my little book club for one.
Something Father Christmas lovingly placed in the stocking of the Ginger Ninja.
Possibly, due to his love of the wrestling annual his auntie bought him, more for his mama's reading pleasure than his own.
Patrick George's "A filth of starlings"
A book about the collective nouns for animals.
Some well known, a pod of dolphins, some lesser known, a parliament of Owls
and some I suspect fanciful a hover of trout.
I could have taken a photo of every illustration in the book to show you, but in the end settled on this one.
"A kettle of hawks
Swirling and spiralling, hawks seek out the rising air thermal during migration.
Hungry for its prey, the white tailed hawk plucks insects from the rising smoke of the wildfire.
And a pair indulge in aerial acrobatics, steamily circling, diving and soaring during courtship."
How poetic is that?
And remember a
Love Nora xxx