This past weekend, my husband and I had a major household project. For the past twenty-plus years, we'd slept on a mattress placed on a wooden platform which the previous owners of our home had constructed in our bedroom. We'd not had the inclination before to dismantle it, but when our mattress began causing my back too much pain, we decided to buy a real bed and take the platform down on Memorial Day weekend. So we did.
Part of the platform was a wooden shelf right behind the bed, where we'd put books and a table lamp and papers and things. Unfortunately, there was a crack between the shelf and the wall, and sometimes things would fall down inside there. We actually bore a hole in there to retrieve them, but sometimes we couldn't be bothered. There is a point to all this; bear with me.
So when we took the shelf down, we were greeted with a half inch of dust and some papers and things which we'd forgotten about. Among everything was the local library copy of MRS. PIGGLE-WIGGLE'S FARM, which I'd taken out in December of 1992. Now I remember paying the fine for a lost book, but not actually losing it.
Confession: I wish I could say I got this out for my daughter, but she was eleven months old at the time. It was for ME! Yes, I still read children's books! And enjoy them!
Actually, this was one I'd not read as a child. It was entertaining. I love the way MacDonald describes adults: as rather clueless, misguided morons. The kids, even when they're being broken of horrible habits, are the heroes. Of course, there's Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, but she seems as if she never completely grew up herself. That's the appeal of the stories.
Not the best of the series, but entertaining, and much better than the effort from 2007, which is best ignored.
Oh, and we love the new bed, too.