NOW WE HAVE THEM ALL

I am a major fan of A A Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh series, with the line illustrations by E H Shepard. (NOT the remixed, dumbed-down, sanctimonious, over-sweet, botoxed and multi-coloured DISNEY version, which is good only for kids and cakes - this year my three-year old had a Pooh cake for her birthday).

I mean the original books, which number only four. Of these, I had managed to get three earlier (Pooh-book hunting adventures recounted earlier in this blog).

Recently, at the Crossword Sale, I found the remaining book, NOW WE ARE SIX, which is a collection of whimsical rhymes about Christopher Robin's childhood, till he reaches the immensely self-important age of six.

There are poems about 'Us Two' (Who else, but Christopher and Pooh), about his golden-sunlit 'Buttercup Days', about fascinating 'Old Sailors' and 'Charcoal Burners', about the wheezles and 'Sneezles' which force you to be bundled in bed, when all you want is to be 'Busy' going round about and round about.

There are poems which will transport you back to when you were six or so, when you had your own special imaginary friend Binker, who was as fond of sweets as you were, and for whom you had to take two sweets, one for you and one for him, and both of which you had to eat (because his teeth were new, or something).

Adorable, delicious and quite quite wonder-full.