I’ve been reading and collecting children’s books ever since I could read.  My parents started me off before I can remember and I’ve just kept on going.  I have very faint memories of going regularly to Thin’s in Edinburgh with my Dad after my sister was born.  We went by bus and the family story goes that we always sat upstairs at the front.  Apparently, it was a big event in my life!

I was introduced to libraries at an early age too.  My vaguest memories are of Portobello Library in Edinburgh.  Lodged at the back of my memory is a book about Angus and a cat.  I think Angus was a dog but neither Mum nor I could ever remember any more than that.  I haven’t been back to Portobello Library since we moved from Edinburgh but I’m sure they no longer have the book.

I have clearer memories of my next library: the Ewart in Dumfries.  I have been back there recently and it’s completely different now but my memories are of a somewhat forbidding place.  I expect the shelves were quite high and of dark wood and I have the idea that the windows were high too.  My clearest memory, though, is of discovering a beautifully illustrated edition of Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses.  I loved that book and borrowed it incessantly.  In the end, my parents bought me my own copy.  I still have it and I can still recite many of the poems!

My last childhood library was in Lossiemouth in Moray.  It was the first library I went to on my own.  It was at the far end of the (fairly long) street on which we lived and I would often go there after school.  I have pretty clear memories of Lossiemouth Library and some of the books I found there.  It was there that I first stumbled across some book prize called the Carnegie Medal.  I saw an impression of the medal on the front cover of The Edge of the Cloud by KM Peyton and thought that it looked very impressive.  Later it dawned on me that the prize had also been won by Arthur Ransome for Pigeon Post, a book I’d read earlier in my life.

That’s how it all started.  So it seems that my parents and public libraries are to blame for my bowing bookshelves and creaking floorboards.  My parents continued to buy me books all their lives (and I inherited many of theirs) and scarcely a week has gone past without my visiting a library.  I’ve never lost my enjoyment of children’s books and I don’t expect I ever will – although I may be forced to stop collecting them unless I buy a bigger house!


  1. Hello, Jane. I remember a book called Angus Lost by Marjorie Flack – gorgeous colours and I knew it by heart well before I could read. All about a scottie dog, probably set back in the 30s. I can’t recall if he met a cat … Does this help? Still available from Amazon and probably other good sources!

  2. Interesting to note that my first library was also the Ewart in Dumfries – in the 50’s – but I have never ever returned to see what memories it would bring back to me. I too recall K M Peyton’s Edge of the Cloud which prompted me at the time to read others by her. A forgotten author these days, I think.

    Have enjoyed reading your blog – what a great idea – keep up the good work.

  3. Hi Jane

    I have fond memories of the old Portobello library (now the local police station I believe). If it were still there I could probably have taken you straight to the shelves in the children’s section which held the Chalet School books which I liked to borrow, my favourite being Exile. I always recall the days of the tramcars and sitting at the front upstairs looking out through the smog, which whirled round in those good old days, making sure I got off at the tight stop for the library on my way home.


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