I will have more precious autumn picture books to share and recommend in the coming weeks, but since Halloween is fast approaching, I thought I’d do a roundup of some of our favorite Halloween stories. Beware when shopping for Halloween books. There’s a lot of junk out there. Seriously, if it’s a TV or movie character starring in a Halloween book, skip it.

I promise none of these books are scary. My older son is too sensitive (thus far) for scary Halloween stories. And Asher really doesn’t like “keepy guys.”

Clockwise:

Julia Donaldson’s Room on the Broom — This comical story, illustrated by Axel Scheffler, about a friendly witch who drops one thing after another off her broom while she’s flying is full of fun rhymes and cutsey animals. Each time she drops an item, such as her wand or hat, a friendly creature finds it and returns it, and thereafter becomes a traveling companion. The group does finally meet a scary dragon, but through their adventures, broom-riding friends become fearsome enough themselves to frighten that dragon away. As this book is fairly wordy for a picture book, I’d say it’s perfect for 4- to 8-year-olds. This is a Nice Witch Book, of which I am in favor, speaking as a grown woman who had many, many nightmares about witches when I was a small girl.

Kevin Lewis’s The Runaway Pumpkin — This Halloween picture book illustrated by S. D. Schindler is an all-time favorite in our house. Lewis has a gift for rhythm, and his refrain robustly beats off the page predictably and dramatically. I challenge you to read this book to your kids without slapping your thigh or tapping your toe in time. After finding the most giant pumpkin ever grown and rolling it homeward, the three children of this extended family get more than they bargained for! It’s all good in the end, because grandma cooks up delicious pumpkin goodies—just in time for Halloween.

Mary Serfozo’s Plumply, Dumply Pumpkin — Illustrated by Valerie Petrone, this book is great book for toddlers. It’s simple and sweet, and full of yumpcious, made-up words. The tiger goes looking for the perfect pumpkin for his jack-o’-lantern, and finds it, of course.

Norman Bridwell’s The Witch Next Door and Other Stories — This collection of four Witch Next Door stories by the creator of Clifford the Big Red Dog is a classic. It must be, right?—because I read these stories when I was a kid. A good witch moves into a “normal” neighborhood and quickly teaches everyone a thing or two about being good and neighborly. It gets my approval because it’s another Nice Witch Book and always has my boys (3 and 8 ) laughing.

Peter Glassman’s My Working Mom — OK, I admit I bought this one on lark when Lucas was less than a year old. Yes, it’s another Nice Witch Book. The little girl in the story explains how it can sometimes be challenging when you have a mom who works, especially when Mom’s busy and her job is kinda weird. Yes, it appeals to me on so many levels. Eventually, the little girl in the story comes to realize it’s kinda cool to have such an interesting mom, who has her hands in so many … cauldrons. Cute and funny. Not scary, although Mom’s cooking is … adventurous, and Career Day at school has never been so fun.

Two more favorites:

Tasha Tudor’s Pumpkin Moonshine — First copyrighted in 1938, this is a sweet story about a Sylvie Ann who picks a fine pumpkin to make a pumpkin moonshine, but it rolls out of control down the hill! Perhaps this book was Lewis’s inspiration for The Runaway Pumpkin. If you’re fond of books set in “simpler times,” this is a lovely addition to any young child’s library.

Lauren Thompson’s Mouse’s First Halloween — A great first Halloween book for babies and preschoolers. Illustrated by Buket Erdogan, this book explores all kinds of things Mouse thinks are spooky, only to find that they are really “Not so scary after all.” We have the board book edition and it has served us well.

If you have read all this way, you might be asking yourself why we have so many Halloween books. (My husband might be asking that also.) Here’s part of the reason: In our home, after Halloween, the Candy Fairy visits in the night. If we leave out candy for the Candy Fairy to feed to her children, she leaves a little gift in its place.

Happy reading!

This beautiful book is by one of the most prolific and popular children’s writers of all time, Jane Yolen. Child of Faerie, Child of Earth is a sweet poem in which a magical boy meets a human girl, and together they visit each other’s very different worlds.

“He was a child of faerie folk.
A child of sky and air,
And she was a child of humankind,
Of earth and toil and care.
They met in the dusk of Hallow’s Eve,
When widows grieve
In widow’s weave.
They met in the dark of Hallow’s Eve,
She had flowers in her hair.”

The girl spends an enchanted night dancing among the faeries. The boy asks her to stay and be his elven queen; “Become a child of night, we’ll dance between the hollow hills bedecked in candlelight.”

But she knows better; it’s not her place. In turn, she leads him into her daytime world, and shows him the colors and textures of human life.

“He drank cold milk and ate brown bread.
He made a bed.
He cleaned a shed.
He followed everywhere she led,
Then round about again.”

“Oh stay with me dear faerie child,
And live here on the land.
We’ll till the soil, we’ll plow the field,
We’ll harvest hand in hand.”

He considers her offer under the cold, cold stars, but realizes this will never do. “You work. I play. I must away. I’ll keep the night and you the day.”

And so they part, but not without an exchange of gifts; she gives a fresh hen’s egg and with his magic, he extracts a feather from within it (“I give you this that comes from that”)—tokens for each to keep and to guide each back to the other. They are forever friends.

This book is so charming and full of magic. It’s perfect for little ones who believe in faerie folk and the magic of Halloween, but aren’t ready for the scary stuff.

“Be bold, be brave, be unafraid, and join that faerie ring.”

Jane Dyer is the illustrator of something like fifty children’s books, including Time for Bed by Mem Fox and When Mama Comes Home Tonight by Eileen Spinelli, two other favorites for small children.

September

Dear apple, on your branch,
please fall into my hat.
For if I take you off the tree,
They’ll not be pleased with that!

Apples red and apples green,
please fall down upon the ground.
For if I pick you off the tree,
I cannot say how you’ve been found.

Apples here and apples there,
please fall into my hand.
My little sisters stand and stare
and wait for you to land.

Hips and haws and thistles tall
stand all around the tree.
All will soon be picked and stored.
Is there not just one for me?

Apples, apples, everywhere,
please let me have just one,
and just two more, please, tree,
then September will be done.

Goodness, I cannot wait to go to Apple Hill!

I am not the only one in love with Elsa Beskow books—they are practically as much a staple in the Waldorf world as fresh bread and vegetable barley soup. And I’ll also admit that I love this book, Around the Year, more than my children do, partly because I appreciate poetry and they’re not quite so keen on it, and partly because they simply don’t pay too much attention to the months of the year. They live in the moment and experience what’s now. But that’s why these month poems by Beskow are great, in my opinion. They capture the quality and feeling of each month from a child’s perspective. I think this book is a keeper, meaning it might just be delightful to my kids for many years, rather than something they’ll quickly outgrow.

This little treasure of a book, Astro Bunnies, isn’t fancy, isn’t old, isn’t even hardbound. It’s a Scholastic paperback that I found in a used bookstore and snatched up years ago. We first encountered it when we checked it out from the library when Lucas was small. The author is Christine Loomis, who wrote two other delightful Bunnies books—Coyboy Bunnies (1997) and Scuba Bunnies (2004). The illustrations in Astro Bunnies are by Ora Eitan.

Loomis’s text is lilting and fun; perfect for preschoolers or early readers with an affectionate ear for rhyme. Eitan’s illustrations have a retro-futuristic feel that I find appealing. (I’m sure that kind of style has a name in the art world, but I don’t know what it is.)

My boys love the idea of space travel and the juxtaposition of cuddly white bunnies and astronauts is a successful one. The bunnies put on space suits and go for a space walk, “ride their rockets in slow motion through a silent starry ocean,” and collect data for science. Really, what could be better than that?

Their adventure doesn’t stop there, however. “Then a ship appears in space. Bunnies from another place!” Preschool Lucas used to laugh and laugh at the alien bunnies.

Today, Lucas is home sick and since I had this book on my mind anyway, I asked him to read it to me. When the tables turn like this and he reads to me, it’s simply magical, no matter the stutters or mistakes. His reading skills are developing and he’s now in need of practice, practice, practice. We talked about tricky words (spelling of motion/ocean and dial/smile; sound differences of scouting/touring) and how sometimes you just have to memorize them.

To keep him busy today and help him practice his cursive writing, he is now copying out some words from this book for me—a quick little foray into homeschooling and homework, which is something he is keen to do (for now). It’s a win-win deal, except for the sniffles and fever.

I found this gorgeous book, Nicolo’s Unicorn, online a few years ago and I have to say, I love it. It was written by Sylvaine Nahas and illustrated by Bimba Landmann. My copy is a first edition published by Watson-Guptill Publications and printed in Italy in 2001.

This is a inspiring story paired with beautiful artwork that reminds me of medieval paintings. The pages are gilded with gold metallic ink so the book shimmers in places on every page—the moon, the stars, the unicorn’s horn, and leaves.

Nicolo lives in Venice. He is always daydreaming about meeting a unicorn with a golden horn and a silver mane. Everyone tells Nicolo he is being silly, “You know there’s no such thing as a unicorn.”

He has trouble concentrating in school, and when his teacher asks him what he’s daydreaming about he tells her. “I bet it will be able to run very fast. Do you think it will let me ride on its back?” Nicolo’s answer doesn’t impress his teacher.

His wish is so earnest that he cannot eat. Nicolo’s mother asks him why he hasn’t eaten his dinner. “I’m dreaming about meeting a unicorn…. I bet it will eat tiny magic white flowers. Do you think it will let me taste one?”

As he gazes up to the moon, his aunt asks Nicolo the same question, “What are you daydreaming about?” He tells her he thinks his unicorn will be able to fly all the way to the moon!

“Dont be silly,” says his aunt. “You know there’s no such thing as a unicorn. Now stop daydreaming and let’s go home!”

But Nicolo doesn’t want to stop. The next day he runs to his grandfather’s house to ask if he knows where to find a unicorn. Indeed, grandfather does know.

“Look in colors and paintbrushes. You can make unicorns appear with your very own hands. Look in flutes and tambourines. You will hear them galloping in the music. Look in the books you read. You will find a unicorn lurking behind every page.

“Your unicorn does exist, Nicolo…. Don’t ever stop looking, even when you’re all grown up. Don’t ever stop dreaming about meeting a unicorn.”

Busy, busy, busy summer! We still have three and a half more weeks off school and I’m pleased to say I am not so fed up with summer vacation that I’m ready to tear my hair out like in other past, lonely summers.

I’ve been working steadily and the kids have greatly enjoyed their various activities (preschool, summer camps, swim team, playgroup play dates, and lots of time with friends.) I have gobs of work to do in the next two weeks before our trip to Burning Man, but I’m keeping calm and carrying on, as they say.

I’m happy to report that I’ve even been able to squeeze in a little reading for pleasure, which isn’t always possible in my world. Here’s what I’ve been reading, in addition to all the books I read to my kids:

Little House in the Big Woods, by Laura Ingalls Wilder

The classic, just as you remember it, which I may or may not have read when I was a kid. It seems to me I read some of these books, but I really don’t remember them. As farming and domestic arts are a big part of the third-grade curriculum at Lucas’s school, I’m pretty sure this is on the reading list for this year. We are starting now to read it aloud. Next up, Farmer Boy.

Magyk (Septimus Heap Book One), by Angie Sage

This is a newish fantasy series for the 9- to 12-year-old crowd. There are at least five of these Septimus Heap books. The back cover says that fans of Harry Potter will love Septimus Heap, which is why I bought it. I tend to agree, although there are plenty of differences and unique characteristics in this fantasy world. I would be happy to read this aloud to the younger children in that recommended age group; it’s not too scary. Orphaned children, plenty of magyk spells, a dragon boat—really what more could you ask for?

Inkheart, by Cornelia Funk

What can I say? I love children’s fiction! Inkheart is the first of another fantasy series for children 9 to 12 years old. This is one of those books about a book—a fascinating and dangerous world leaks out of the pages of a book and into our world. Villains abound in this story, and their dastardly deeds go unchecked, but for the efforts of a bookish girl, her book-restoring father, and a homesick loner thrust out of his storybook and marooned here. I’d say this series is better for those on the upper end of that age bracket, even for precocious readers. It was very fun and I’m looking forward to reading the sequel. Meggie is a wonderful 12-year-old heroine who loves books—like me!

Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse, by Robert Rankin

I bought this book for its title alone. Rankin is kind of a mix of Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams, and this book has a liberal dose of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, too. It’s a murder mystery set in Toy City, where toys and dolls walk and talk and drink alcohol. It was fun and irreverent, and I’m curious about Rankin’s other books, but I think this novel should have wrapped up about 40 pages before it actually did.

The Gates, by John Connolly

I’ve never read John Connolly before this one, which I picked up at the library because it had a nifty cover and was featured in the “new titles” section. The protagonist is 11 years old, but I’m not quite sure if this book is a juvenile novel or an adult novel. I would recommend it! Very fun. The gates of hell open up and assorted demons escape into an English suburban community. Only the boy and his dog understand how evil the neighbors down the street really are.

The Robber Bride, by Margaret Atwood

I’m still trying to get through this book. For some reason I put it down and picked it up repeatedly. I’ll guess the reason is simply that life happened. This is my first Atwood book—I know, I know. I should have read lots of her work before now—at least The Handmaid’s Tale—but I haven’t. (I blame all the ninjas and zombies.) So, despite the fact that it’s taking me forever to read this novel about five women, one of whom has profoundly betrayed all the rest, supposedly died, and then reappeared to intersect their lives again should not reflect on the author. The fault is mine. Atwood’s book is has a rich and intelligent plot and her characters sing on the page. I hope to finish this one in the next week or so.

I have long coveted the window stars I’ve seen at the Waldorf school and in photos. I bought a book of how to make them a while back and got so overwhelmed by the complex instructions that I didn’t attempt one for a year.

Eventually, in my combing the Internet, I stumbled upon the right kind of transparent “kite paper” and bought it. My paper is square, so I can now make all the stars that require squares.

Many of the stars in this book require rectangular tissue paper cut to specific sizes and I haven’t tried that yet. I guess my rotary fabric cutter would do the job, but I don’t know if that would be bad for the cutter.

This star was pretty easy to make, although I had to ask Ian help me figure out how to assemble the five points into the star. It was confusing because the instructions were wrong in a couple of places. The book could use a good editor in its next revision, I think! Still, I’m looking forward to making more of these. They’re pretty.

True love is being able to pick out library books for your lover.

Lucas off to camp, Daddy off to work. Me and Asher with all kinds of time for …

chalk drawings on the patio,

inspection of garden flowers,

and the study of sun and shadow, curves and lines and points …

for free-ranging hens, like Avalanche here,

and for growing pumpkins, green and ghostly white,

for purple morning glories, cana seed pods,

and corn in the morning light. How do we know when it’s ripe?

It’s August, so the crepe myrtles are blooming, bursting!

We’re busy, so the playroom needs sweeping. A million precious things scattered a million different places.

And then the blocks simply must come out to play,

and Mommy simply MUST work a tad.

“Bob the Builder” is fun for Asher. Chapter 8 is not so fun for Mommy.

The leftover Ciro’s pizza simply MUST be Lunch.

“I will take my nap on the couch. For ONE minute. And then you wake me up and say, ‘Asher, it’s time to wake up to play!'”

Mia’s Apple Tree

Cameleon Was A Spy

I’ll be damned! He is asleep on the couch, just like he promised.

More of Chapter 8 in the hush of the sleeping preschooler, who,

miracle of miracles!

awakes with a smile and gentle

pat, pat, pat footfalls,

bear in hand.

We fetch Lucas from summer camp, where he wove a tiny rug.

“When can I go to big-boy summer camp?” Asher asks. Again.

“Buckle up, boys. We’re going to the library,”

where they cannot see the books for the computer that has kid games and a candy-colored keyboard.

But the Carmichael Library is newly remodeled and lovely, as is evident in the rotunda. Mommy wants to take more pictures, but then feels too much like a weirdo.

There’s also too much bickering between Asher and Lucas over the computer, so Mommy decides to check out.

Three books for boys, three books for Daddy.

We visit Great-Grandma and Great-Aunt, who are fine and old and loving and mysterious and bored until we arrive.

They don’t believe we have chickens.

Home again, we collect the day’s eggs. The green ones are lucky, don’t ya know.

And “Toy City” grows and grows some more.

For dinner, tasty snapper, spinach, snap peas, garden tomatoes, à la Daddy.

Sundown.

There’s still time for chicken ranging, feeding, and holding,

for watering the garden,

for watering the boys, giddy and nekkid, screeching and laughing.

“MY FOOT! I stepped in chicken poop!”

Shivering.

Shower. Teeth. Jammies. Stories. Lotion for eczema. Songs. Cuddles.

“You check on us?”

“Oh yes.”

The Wicked Kings of Bloon is written and illustrated by Steven Kellogg and is copyrighted 1970. Kellogg is the author and/or illustrator of many books for kids, as you can see on his website, including Is Your Mama A Llama by Deborah Guarino, a favorite in our house. As you can see, I have had Bloon since I was young enough not to realize that I shouldn’t be writing “Scool Book” on my books. My hardback copy was purchased for $1.00 probably about 1975, but that’s really just a guess.

Kellogg’s artwork is amazing—rich and colorful, textured and emotional. To my eye, it appears to be both watercolors and colored pencils.

The story contains several morals, the main one being that war is wrong and doesn’t make anyone happier.

“Bloon is a summer land of warm golden fields and tiny villages. The gentle folk who lived there spend their days walking through the flowers, telling silly stories, and snoozing in the sun.”

The citizens of East Bloon are happy, simple people living in a bucolic world near the Land of Monsters, but that isn’t a problem for them at all …

… until “the meanest hag of them all,” Hepzibah, raises her twin sons, Horridge and Heathfern, to despise one another. See how wicked she is? She’s about to mow down that flower!

“‘HORRRRRRRRIDGE! Horridge, you little wretch, why can’t you do anything right? Why can’t you be like Heathfern?'”

“‘HEATHFERN, you ugly beast, why are you so clumsy and awful? Why can’t you do anything right? Why can’t you be like Horridge?'”

That would do it, don’t you think?

By the time the boys were twenty, they had flattened their miserable shack with their fighting and Hepzibah kicked them out. “‘I hate you,’ hissed Horridge. ‘I’ll get you,’ spat Heathfern.”

Horridge left the Land of Monsters and came to the peaceful village of East Bloon, “where he found the happy villagers giggling, tickling each other, and dancing around the square.” Horridge decided he wanted to be king of East Bloon, so he threatened the villagers. “‘Unless you make me your king, I will topple the tower of your town hall at dawn tomorrow!'” And with the help of a powerful magnet, he did. The villagers, not knowing what else to do, made him their king and brought him all of their precious treasures.

Horridge grew fat from eating all day and all night. “He insulted the ladies. He punched the village elders. He threw things at the members of his court. And still he was not happy.” One day, he spied through his spyglass the friendly neighboring village of West Bloon, only there was a fat, horrible king looking back at him. Heathfern! “‘EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-YOG!’ shrieked Horridge.” And the once-peaceful village of East Bloon began to prepare for war. “The last whisper of joy went out of life in East Bloon.”

Horridge went to the Land of Monsters and enslaved a giant, cuddly monster, wrenching him away from the arms of his beloved, to be a beast of war. “For days, the gentle creature lay in chains grieving for his mate in the mountain cave while the court blacksmiths scurried about measuring him for a suit of armor.”

In time, the fateful day of battle came. Soldiers from both East Bloon and West Bloon marched out of their fortified cities. “‘Smash them! Smash them! Bash them! Crush them!’ bellowed the kings.” The war beast of East Bloon lumbered forward, until he recognized his beloved, covered tip to toe in armor of her(?) own to fight on the side of West Bloon.

“Crying out for joy, the two happy animals toppled their riders, tore off their metal plates, and fell gurgling into each other’s arms.” This was the wake-up call that the villagers needed. They whispered and conferred among themselves, and then dethroned the kings Horridge and Heathfern, in favor of a peaceful United Kingdom of Bloon.

The trappings of war were thrown off and demolished. “The East Bloon band broke into a joyous tune and the armies flung themselves into a rousing polka.” Since the brothers could not put aside their differences and join the villagers in a peaceful life …

… the villagers sent them flying …

… right back to their hag mother.

This is the first book I can remember tackling the idea of war. That these gentle people could be convinced by bullies to abandon their happy pursuits and go to war really bothered me. I used to wonder why Hepzibah was so cruel, and how anyone could think parting those two gentle creatures was OK. I guess the story is a product of its time and it was very powerful to me.

I pulled this book out last week and read it to my boys for the first time. Lucas was appropriately aghast at the behavior displayed by Hepzibah, Horridge, and Heathfern. So, I’d say the book is still doing its job.