Tag Archives: Posy Simmonds

Too much chocolate

Daughter and I both remembered this book, Lulu and the Chocolate Wedding by Posy Simmonds. It’s been reissued, and you can’t have too much Posy. Possibly too much chocolate, however, as becomes evident from poor Lulu’s experience.

Posy Simmonds, Lulu and the Chocolate Wedding

She is to be a bridesmaid at her aunt’s wedding, and the anticipation is building up enormous expectations for the day. But children will be children, and somehow Lulu eats rather a lot of chocolate the night before. Nightmares follow and she is sick.

Sick bridesmaids won’t do, so Lulu has to stay behind. (After all that waiting and longing!!) Still tired and under the influence, Lulu dreams a wedding cake dream while she waits for the bride and groom to return.

But all’s well that ends well. The mice get the beetroot and the little bride (off the cake) is found.

There will be no chocolate at Bookwitch Towers today. Well, only a token bit of chocolate substance, and absolutely no wedding cake. The Resident IT Consultant and I are doing what we do every ten years, throwing a party because we are crazy and don’t know better (although we ought to). Never again. Or at least not for another three weeks.

But here’s to not being sick. We won’t even be serving beetroot. (The swede I ate last night doesn’t count.)


I wish I’d known Fred when he first died!

Because Fred is indeed dead. And as with many obituaries you read, whether for people you knew, or people you’d never even heard of, you wish you’d known of the dead person’s excellence while there was time to fully appreciate them. (I’m very much in favour of living obituaries.)

Fred is a cat. Was a cat. And like Mog, he has died, leaving his humans very upset. But this is vintage Posy Simmonds, so you can be sure that you’re going to get something unusual, now that Fred is a dearly departed pet.

Before death Fred seems to have been a very sleepy cat. He slept on every imaginable surface, and the neighbours reminisce about his sleeping habits.

But Nick and Sophie – Fred’s human children – loved him, sleepiness and all, and now that he’s been buried underneath the buddleia, they are sad. And it’s hard to sleep. But a noise from the garden causes them to tiptoe out to investigate.

Posy Simmonds, Fred

And they find out the most astonishing facts about their beloved Fred. He was famous. All the cats from miles around have come to say goodbye. They learn a lot as they take part in a marvellous memorial service.


Letters to Klaus

I have been in Klaus Flügge’s office, and have seen the envelopes on his walls. They seem to be well known, which doesn’t surprise me. They are so lovely, that I believe I will draw an envelope of my own to send to Klaus. Let me just get this envelope review out of the way first.

Someone came up with the idea of making a book out of Klaus’s wall decorations, and here it is; Letters to Klaus. Many of this publisher’s picture book illustrators have contributed, but none more than David McKee. There’s a lot of his stuff in this envelope shaped little art book.

Letters to Klaus

It might sound slightly daft, but it’s actually a rather nice experience to leaf through it to see what these clever artists can do. And the stamps were so cheap then!

Speaking of money, all proceeds from the book go to Save the Children.

(I’m pleased to have discovered that Klaus is most likely Flügge rather than Flugge. It’s understandable that the umlaut disappeared here, but I rather like it, and the name flows more easily when you’ve dotted your u.)

Klaus Flügge's office

Young Daisy’s book

If we follow the path from yesterday, then this book would be dreadfully boring. Luckily someone saw fit to publish nine-year-old Daisy Ashford’s book without correcting it. Hence the title The Young Visiters.

It’s not new. It was first published in 1919, so most of you have presumably read it. I read it a long time ago, after coming across something about it in the paper. My edition has illustrations by the lovely Posy Simmonds, so is especially nice.

To follow my train of thought, The Young Visiters must be exactly as its author wanted it to be. The spelling is all over the place. Sentence structure is grand, but not necessarily correct. Daisy has used fancy words, occasionally correctly. And her grasp of life is that of a child.

You could quote the whole book if you want funny quotes, but I’m quite happy with ‘he sat down and eat the egg which Ethel had so kindly laid for him’. Ethel is not a chicken. She is, however, ‘very pale owing to the drains in this house’, which is a shame. But she has ‘red ruuge’ to put on her pale face. So that’s all right.

They have ‘plesant compartments’ in London. And ‘Procurio passed out and Mr Salteena finnished his kidneys’. The mind boggles. Especially as the happy couple return from their six-week honeymoon with a ‘son and hair a nice fat baby’, and pretty soon they had ‘six more children four boys and three girls and some of them were twins.’


Or they could have edited it just to be safe.