My grandma lived in a red brick home in Logan, Utah, an antiquated place with a huge garden in the back. In her living room stood a fireplace, flanked on either side by built-in bookcases. Many of the books were doctrinal or in other ways over my head, but it was on those shelves that I first discovered Gene Stratton-Porter, Mother Goose, and many others. I can’t so briefly mention Mother Goose without going back to do her justice. The book my grandmother had was a richly illustrated book, with a tan and black checkerboard background. I recently got a … Continue reading →