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Aug 3, 2012

The Scrapbook of Frankie Pratt



Working at a musuem affords me the opportunity to read journals, study documents and momentos, and search through handwritten archives. I mull over old photos for clues about the people who stare blankly at the Daguerreotype camera, which required long exposure times. I have this need to know these people, to care about what they felt and dreamed.

So, the Scrapbook of Frankie Pratt, by Caroline Preston, has me captivated! My mind continually stitches images and scraps of information into stories. Caroline's novel feels very natural.
 

Her website shares this... 
"For her graduation from high school in 1920, Frankie Pratt receives a scrapbook and her father’s old Corona typewriter. Despite Frankie’s dreams of becoming a writer, she must forgo a scholarship to a prestigious women’s college to help her widowed mother. But when a mysterious Captain James sweeps her off her feet, her mother finds a way to protect Frankie from the less-than-noble intentions of her unsuitable beau." 
 "Through a kaleidoscopic array of vintage postcards, letters, magazine ads, ticket stubs, catalogue pages, fabric swatches, candy wrappers, fashion spreads, menus and more, we meet and follow Frankie on her journey in search of success and love." 
"...Caroline Preston pulls from her extraordinary collection of vintage ephemera to create the first-ever scrapbook novel..." 
As an enthusiast of history and vintage, this book plays right into my passions. I plan on taking this adventure.

Croc Spots

I have these dark circles on my body. No, not under my eyes, but on the tops of my feet. Crazy! On closer inspection (which meant putting on my reading glasses) I observed that the circles are the same size and evenly spaced. Then it registered... I have Croc Spots — which has nothing to do with slow cookers.

Years back, I gave into wearing Crocs because my mom gifted me with a pair. I adored wooden clogs when they became a big deal in the 70's, but Crocs looked a little cheesy to me . . . uh, maybe because of the holes?

I became a convert once I began to use them though. They are comfy, airy, bouncy, and I actually healed a bone spur by wearing them. I walk to work along a mountain dirt-road and the sun reaches into the holes. Maybe I don't need that manicure after all.

NOTE: On September 3, 2007, I wrote a post called "Blending In?" It addressed Foreign sentiments toward Americans and referenced Crocs. Click HERE to visit the post.