The Girls of Silver Spur Ranch
The home where I grew up on the family farm was the same house, built in 1957, where my mom was raised. When Grandma and Grandpa Trigg moved to town they left a few things behind. There was a built-in bookshelf recessed in the wall of the rumpus room. Does anyone still call their basement family room a rumpus room? I haven't heard that reference in ages but that is how that room has always been referred.
Anyhow, on that bookshelf several vintage books and readers remained. One book in particular, with a faded turquoise cover, was blemished with a large water stain across the front cover. The pages were brittle, yellowed, and the first several pages had worn loose.
As a child, I was a voracious reader. I would pack a bag of books for long road trips and remember using the Christmas lights to read by late into the night after I had been told to turn out my reading light. At some point, I pulled out that blotched book first published in 1930 and read it cover to cover. It's reminiscent of the classic Little Women; a tale of powerful young women coming of age but is set on a working ranch in Texas rather than a Massachusetts' neighborhood.
I still pull it out every couple of years to read all over again. I've read it nearly a dozen times. After a few reads, for reasons I cannot remember, I took out a pencil and haphazardly numbered every page - all 254 of them. I soon regretted this and it spirited me to find a more intact copy.
Any time I ventured into an old book store or an antique shop, I would scan the shelves seeking it out. I never did find it on their shelves but found many other attractive hard covers instead. I have accumulated quite the collection of vintage books; some were chosen for their covers, their unique colors, or their enticing titles. Then I was fortunate, a little over 10 years ago, to discover a copy with that same teal fabric cover on Amazon.
Have you ever found yourself thinking about your most cherished possession? Or what physical item you would save first in the event of a disaster? For me, it would be both copies of this book. They sit inconspicuously on my bookshelf among my other vintage books used as decor. Their value is far greater than anything else placed in that room yet they aren't obvious in the least. That original hardcover with its blatant imperfections and the second copy, sought out for years, hold equal importance. Their ability to take me back in time and offer moral guidance when I was a young impressionable lady was priceless. They have provided entertainment, both sitting to read and in the decade-long treasure hunt. They have given great escape and they hold more nostalgia between the covers than a high school yearbook.