White boots

I stole this off my mum's shelf when I was about 12 and for some reason kept the book all these years. It's moved from shelf to shelf throughout various house moves but I've never re-read it, until back in December it suddenly popped into my head again. I think my brain somehow remembered its soothing, reassuring nature, and knew it was the right book for this time in my life.

Four years ago my son, now nearly 8, fell ill with JDM. The symptoms are very much the same as how Harriet's illness is depicted (no spoilers - this is page 1 stuff!), it's a muscle weakening condition that appears in childhood. Our path through diagnosis, treatment, and recovery has been extremely long and, frankly, harrowing at times. But in the past year we have finally allowed hope to settle, and been a bit more comfortable with the idea of a full recovery in our future.

I couldn't have read this book a year or two ago while we were in the middle of it, but now he is on his way to a full recovery it resurfaced in my mind. I still had tears in my eyes in certain passages, but not in a painful way.

You know, not a lot really happens but it is endearingly written and the story bobs along pleasantly enough. Obviously it has a lot of personal meaning being both a childhood book of mine and taking on a new aspect recently, so any attempt to review this as a book in its own right is going to be hard. It's a nice story, with keenly observed childhood characters and relationships. It forms a charming window into a certain type of 1950s world, though aside from the house-staff it has a timeless quality to it and could just as well be set today. The ending's wrapped up nicely enough, but I'd have liked to see Harriet pass her tests, to be privy to a real sense of her embarking into her future.

Objectively, whisper it, it's probably a 3 star book, but it'll always have a special place in my heart.