It was snowing. The blue tit sat on a twig in the shelter of a fir tree and stared out at the falling snow. I wish it were spring, she sighed, and shook the snow from her feathers. But winter is fantastic! piped up the cheeky sparrow. They Lied!!! This actually has 366 stories. I deliberately started this on a non leap year in some mad delusion that they wouldn't have included February 29. They have (and honestly it's a Pluto story and I'm not a fan so I did skip it). The Lilo and Stitch one was adroable and Wall-e makes an appearance. I felt like this one had more stories I wasn't interested in. I read them anyway and thank heaven that they are short. urn:lcp:disney365bedtime0000unse:epub:8ca22306-29ad-4fc4-8658-8bfacf62ce23 Foldoutcount 0 Identifier disney365bedtime0000unse Identifier-ark ark:/13960/s20xmfdvhbb Invoice 1652 Isbn 9781423199557 The Watsons' pet monkey (why is the author fascinated with that stupid monkey?) is a retired organ grinder's monkey. NYC banned organ grinders in 1936. This is the absolute bestest daily bedtime stories book! My great-aunt gave us a copy with the original 1955 illustrations when I was little, but we lost it in a move, and I looked and looked and looked for something half as good, but found nothing that remotely compared except Bible story books, which are not quite the same thing.

What are you looking for? An owl, sitting in the tree and waiting for nightfall, opened his eyes and blinked in the winter sun. I’m looking for the nuts that I buried somewhere around here in the autumn, replied Fuzzy. I’m sure they’re under the big oak tree, said the owl, and yawned. While many books have an individual story for each day, in this book the stories are all somehow linked to the families on Trufflescootums Boulevard (aka "What A Jolly Street"), which is a cul-de-sac across from a school, with a little grocery on the corner, up against a sizable creek, with farmland and an orchard right near. Some of the stories, while complete, have a "to be continued" feel that spreads over a few days or an even longer time (one "mystery" lasts months), which gives the book as a whole surprising depth, IMHO. This is a time when spaghetti is an exotic food and all the moms are homemakers and it's very much another era, yet many of the lessons and activities shown are timeless. What are you up to? dwarf Sven asked his friend dwarf Steve, who was making snowballs and piling them up into a neat little heap. I’m collecting snowballs, Steve replied. And what are you going to do with them? asked Sven inquisitively. I’m making a snowball trap for giants.The evidence suggests that these stories were written between the First and Second World Wars (most likely the 1930s), possibly for serialization, and were updated for this collection published in 1955. Jonathan wrapped his warm scarf tightly round him and looked out at the sea. He did this every day. Even in winter. He loved to watch the ships sailing by. Hey! You! Baffled, Jonathan peered into the water. Who should be swimming there but a little mermaid! In November, there are two stories for Veteran's Day, one of which is clearly an Armistice Day story with a couple lines added for Veteran's Day. This is the only reference to WWII in the entire book, and elsewhere WWI is called "The World War".

If you think that elves only dance on warm summer nights, you don’t know everything there is to know about them. You see, elves also love the winter. When it’s bitterly cold and icy outside, and the frost is pinching everyone’s nose, the elves celebrate their winter festival. In an endless round, the snow crystals drift down from the sky and land on the ground with a gentle, silver sound. Only elves have ears sharp enough to hear the music of the snow. When the snowflakes begin to dance, the elves too begin to dance. What they like doing best is to hover over the freshly fallen snow on which there is not yet a single human footprint. Very gently, the hems of their clothes graze the brilliant white snow and leave behind light traces, as if the wind had breathed upon the covering of snow. From the roofs there hang icicles, all in a row like the chimes of a xylophone. The elves play music on them – plinkety plonkety! And if you don’t believe this, then break off an icicle and take a close look. You’ll see everything that happened last night, caught inside it as if on a film. I.A. 5 January Visit to Mother Hulda Which did not bother my child-self at all (I just assumed the artist wasn't accurate), while my adult self sees the location as so idyllic and unreal I can still see it as such a mixed-race neighborhood despite the 1950s midwest setting. Heh. Note: The decision was made to consolidate all Disney publications under the name Walt Disney Company. This profile is for Walt Disney, the characters he created, and the company he founded. Any questions, please ask in the Librarian's Group. Melissa was sitting on the sofa reading a book. For some reason, the sofa felt a bit uncomfortable today. All lumpy-bumpy. Melissa lifted up the cover and saw five little shaggy green monsters crouching underneath. Who are you? she asked in amazement. But the monsters just laughed in her face. Just you wait! said Melissa. She got out the vacuum cleaner and tried to vacuum the monsters up. But they simply fastened their claws into the cushion and grinned at Melissa. Okay! Fine! said Melissa. If that’s the way you want it … Then she called on the secret anti-monster weapon which fills all monsters with fear and dread. Melissa roared as loud as she could, Muummmyyy! Suddenly, the little monsters evaporated into thin air. The cowards were scared of grown-ups! Feeling pleased with herself, Melissa opened her book again. At last she could look at the pictures without being disturbed. S.H. 3 January The birthday dwarfI have decided to challenge myself to read this one story at a time this year. While this may not sound terribly hard, for me it is. Really, I would just read all 365 stories and be done with it. So instead I decided to read it as it was intended (plus it's kinda nice to feel like I am reading myself a bedtime story).

Spaghetti is a weird ethnic food that children don't like, in one story set in June. About a month later one of the children declares that spaghetti and meatballs is her favorite dinner. Written years apart, pre- and post-Chef Boyardee? As a child of the 1960s who owned this book I do have to say that it's a decidedly satisfying nostalgia read.

7 January

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