I am a lover of books, plain and simple. I like to read them, I like to collect them and I like to write them.
I am also of the generation that has the technology to download e-books; but, I much prefer the feel of the pages and the smell of a real, honest to goodness book. There is comfort in letting it rest on my lap while I sip my tea and nibble on a cookie while I immerse myself in the words.
Not everything I read would appeal to others. A good thing in my opinion. But it is interesting, the diversity of topics that will take me from one mood to another. A reading frenzy of what I call no-mind fiction can see me devouring a book a day. On the other hand, a riveting story can be the start of an all-nighter to get it finished. Dryer subject matter allows me to stroll though the book at my leisure.
Set in British Columbia’s remote Bella Coola Valley, British born, city girl, Isabel Edwards recounts the homesteading journey she and her husband Earle embarked on in 1913. Her autobiographical account of how they had planned to stay only one winter; and, that one winter turned into over five decades.
She regales the reader with tales about the characters that lived in the so called neighbourhood. She shares her experiences milking cows and bartering for things she thought were important in their existence. Mrs. Edwards includes stories of the solitude and being a woman in a male dominant world.
From cover to cover, Ruffles on my Longjohns will have you laughing, reflecting and wondering how the heck did she last. At the time the book was published, in 1980, the dust cover indicates Mrs. Edwards “. . . still lives that peaceful wilderness existence.”
I have now acquired an autographed copy of Ruffles on my Longjohns for my own library; and, I have to say, it is still one of my favourite books.