I’ve always been a sucker for books.

It stems from my childhood.

My sister and I shared a tiny box room when we were young. It had just enough room for our bunk beds – and a wardrobe where we kept all our stuff, built over the bit where the stairwell encroached.

We didn’t really mind too much that it was tiny. It was our own private realm.

Even though not even all of that tiny room was ours.

One whole wall was covered, floor to ceiling, with my Dad’s books. I used to lie in my top bunk every night looking at the coloured spines and reading the titles.

Dad was a voracious reader. He had books all over the house, and worked his way through a stack from the library every week too.

And he encouraged us to read.

When I got to choose a book, I favoured large-format, nice editions of magical stories, or fairy tales. With illustrations, whenever possible.

Something beautiful, imaginative and escapist.

I have to say, I’m not really a reader of classic literature.

My sister turned out to be the classics fan.

But these Puffin in Bloom editions, with their gorgeously illustrated covers by Rifle Paper Co.‘s lead artist Anna Bond, are nice enough to just want to keep them on a shelf.

I could go to sleep at night quite happily staring at them.

Just like in the old days. ♥