Had a ‘day off school’ day yesterday. Me too – strange sickness bug going about. Luckily we’re back to normal today. But it got me thinking about a craft book I had when I was little (and still have): the Stay in Bed Book.
There were (are) two of these books: Stay in Bed and Play Indoors. By inference, they are for those moments when you can’t be active, can’t be outside. The preface of the Stay in Bed book shows it is aimed at a child in bed with measles, or a broken leg – something where you have to stay put, but still want something to do.
The Stay in Bed Book has a splendidly seventies cover, with a child in paisley pyjamas cutting away at a pompom hedgehog with a felt body. (I’ve been struggling to find a link to it that actually show the cover – you’ll just have to imagine it. Â Or pop over and have a look at my copy.)
I made that hedgehog – though, probably, not when I was ill. (I can’t speak for the paisley pyjamas. I don’t think so. But then I may have blocked that out.)
I wasn’t ill a lot as a child. Grateful for that. But I do recognise that listlessness when you aren’t quite feeling right, want something new to do that cheers you up a bit, and need something that isn’t too demanding.
I find myself thinking back to more Robert Louis Stevenson when I consider this book – and his poem about the Land of Counterpane. Stevenson certainly knew illness as a child, and I’m not surprised that he chose to picture this when putting together his collection of poems.
The copy of the Child’s Garden of Verses (from which this comes) I had was memorable for this page – the illustrations showed him moving his toy soldiers about on the blanket of the bed.
The other key book I think about is A Big Ball of String, by Marion Holland. One of the Dr Seuss library of books written by other authors, this was one that lived at my grandparents, so I only got to see it when visiting them.
The boy in the book is ill, and required to stay in bed. He finds he can make a few things work around his bedroom with bits of string, collects up more and more of it.
By the end, as the title promises, he has a big ball of string that is making about twenty different things work. He can turn the light on and off, alter the blinds, flick the switch to make his model train go, and lots more cheering up activities.
You do notice that he does get out of bed to put the things in motion – and by the end, operating everything at once, you do get the idea that he is pretty much better. But it’s still fun to think that ‘With a big ball of string //I can do anything // Anything at all!’
It seems a bit of a niche, books for things to do when you’re ill. But I think it impacted me more by making me realise that others might be ill more, or for longer times.
I didn’t necessarily realise in my childhood that some people have poor health for far more of their lives, and that working around it is still important.
But that is also the role of books: to help you understand others’ lives, other situations that are valid, even if you don’t share them. Because you might at some point. And you can have some appropriate concern in the meantime.
Having a quick flick back at the Stay in Bed Book, I quite like the look of weaving with wool and drinking straws. Perhaps it’s time to practise looking peaky again.