I was contacted by a researcher last week, who said that the BBC might be doing a feature on Ladybird Books if the programme 'Flog it!' goes to Loughborough. Apparently nothing has been decided yet, but I'll keep you posted here.
Fritz, the gentleman mentioned in the post below, is an actor - principally an 'extra' - or whatever the correct term is.
With his wild beard, matching scraggy pony-tail and nose ring he gets very particular parts - he says he is usually asked to play the down-and-out, the tramp, the survior of the atrocity several months on or something like that. He told me all this before we met up - as a warning that he might look scary.
Well he did look a bit scary, but was warm and interesting. And this leads me on to the point of my post. This turned into one of the very many odd, friendly and off-beat encounters that I have had as a result of my Ladybird hobby.
How many weekend mornings have I dragged husband (and sometimes son) off to meet the god-son of an artist, the grand-daughter of a writer or some other interesting character with their own collection of books or tale to tell.
And invariably the individual is intelligent, warm and friendly - if a little off-beat. Can this be coincidence? I doubt it. I think that there's something of a natural self-selection when it comes to anything to do with Ladybird Books.
To be an adult with an unabshed fondness for these little books seems to require a certain set of characteristics - which include self-deprecation and mild eccentricity.
Hold your heads high, Ladybods of the world.
Now here's a sight to warm my heart.
I was contacted by a very interesting sounding man who said he had a few box loads of Ladybird Books that he had been about to take to a charity shop. Having found my webiste online he asked me if I would be interested in them.
Now working my way through a lot of assorted old Ladybird Books is a rare treat for me so of course the answer was 'yes'. We arranged to meet at the Hatfield Galleria and, after a pleasant coffee and chat, I became the new owner. This man, Fritz, wasn't concerned about payment, although I gave him something for having made a fair old journey to get to me. We loaded the books into the car boot and I was about to close the door when we were both struck by the beauty of the scene - a whole car boot filled with 1960s Ladybird classics.
Now the fact that you have found your way to this blog and have read this far means that there's an evens chance that you will understand this view of aesthetics. Perhaps you will also appreciate what a great afternoon I had sorting through this 'haul'.
Or perhaps not.
