Oh what a find. I think it was this very book that made me start drawing in the first place. It's pages are browning and the stitching is loose and it smells incredible, that lovely historical smell. Notice how I've named all the animals, well, most. At seven I apparently didn't think that the pigs and sheep were worthy of personal names. I distinctly remember copying some of these pictures and I remember particularly enjoying drawing the hair-fringe covering the shire horses hooves. It has tea cup ghost stains on the front cover and my grandma's old address inside. I read a book years ago about a girl whose dad was a novelist and he kept his manuscripts in the salad drawer of his fridge in case of a fire. I'd definitely keep this book in my fridge.
